


it's just the touch of your hand

by pettigrace



Series: a shortstop along third base [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Canon Bisexual Character, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gay Raphael Santiago, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, My mind is still set on Raphael only having brothers, Pansexual Simon Lewis, Past Child Abuse, Sorry Rosa Santiago you're a good Sizzy shipper, Trans Male Character, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 14:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11716725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pettigrace/pseuds/pettigrace
Summary: Sometimes making sure your family is alright means you have to pretend to date a tall and dorky photographer.





	it's just the touch of your hand

**Author's Note:**

> Back in the game, people! 
> 
> This fic depicts the background for World 8.0 of my [Dimension-Travel AU](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11045085/chapters/24621705), but it can be read on its own, too, of course!  
> Usually I turn everything over 20k words into a multichapter, but I can't really do this with this one, so y'all are gonna have to suffer about ca 30k in one chapter. Sorry!  
> The title is from The Flying Pickets' "Only You".
> 
> Special thanks goes out to my love [oathofsilence](http://archiveofourown.com/users/oathofsilence) who helped me somewhat with the plot <3
> 
> Please mind the **warning for Weight Issues and Past Child Abuse**. Neither of those is depicted greatly, but it might be upsetting anyway.

Raphael raises a brow as he watches the photographer mess with his equipment. Even though he seems to be on the clumsy side, he’s been very determined to decline anybody’s help - well, except for Raphael’s own because he hadn’t even offered it - as he struggles to open different camera bags and put together the devices. 

All in all, the guy quite reminds him of Andrew Garfield’s Peter Parker - not just because he’s a photographer but also because he’s rather tall and lanky and wears very hideous glasses. Really, they’re not even those Ray Ban fakes that hipster-nerds wear and that he’s had to wear for a few shoots already, but really bad ones. They hide half the face and have this ugly pattern on them. But then again, the guy’s also wearing a Star Wars shirt.

Raphael catches a glance Meliorn, another model, throws at him and responds with an eyeroll. Sure, Magnus usually offers newcomers a chance to make a name, but most of the time they’re not a stuttering, stumbling mess. In annoyance,  he clicks his tongue slowly.

That raises the photographer’s attention and he looks up, searching for the source and finding Raphael’s eyes quickly. He’s not sure how the guy noticed that it was him since he’s already back to pressing his lips together, but he’s definitely staring at him as he says, “Uh, usually I’m not that-- well, I guess I am... but today’s just, er, weird. Anyways, just give me a few more seconds and we’ll be ready to go.”

Raphael nods and crosses his arms. He shoots another look at Meliorn and this time he gets a slight smile in return. Ah, yeah, Meliorn would find this amusing.

They watch as the guy fumbles some more with his stuff, putting lenses on various cameras and putting up stands. Once he’s finally finished, he claps into his hands and calls them together.

“Uh, so… Hello together-- Wow, you’re all very…”, he starts and looks around, stopping at Raphael. “Anyways! My name is Simon Lewis and I’m your photographer today. I hope we can all have fun together, yeah?” When nobody reacts, he continues, “I’m sure Magnus has talked to y’all about the plans of this shoot, so we should get it going quite well. Just… act like you usually do.”

Again, Raphael raises an eyebrow at him. It’s quite a different method, one that no photographer has used so far, giving a pep speech, but his voice is - despite the apparent nervosity in it - quite low and melodic. Raphael’s sure that if there were any new models here, they’d be calmer immediately. The old ones, however, frown at him.

“Okay, uh, we’ll start with the girls’ single shoots, yeah?”

Raphael can only describe the scenery that happened after that with one word: disaster. It’s quite apparent that it must be one of the first shoots that Simon does because he keeps getting his fingers on the lenses, makes them do ridiculous poses and trembles constantly. As the girl started giggling at him, Raphael’s decided to take pity on him - with how the guy acts, he won’t come back anyways, so he sees no point in making him feel even worse about himself.

But as soon as Raphael’s in position, Simon actually  _ drops _ his camera. Before he knows any better, Raphael rushes forward. “Hey, that thing okay?”

Simon lifts it and once he’s set his eyes on Raphael, he drops it again. “Ah, shit, I don’t-- Usually I’m better, I swear. I--”

“Is it broken?”, Raphael wants to know. This time he’s the one who picks it up.

“Yeah, I think it’s fine.”, Simon says, turning it a few times and looking at the lense. He turns it on to check the screen as well. 

“Are  _ you _ fine?”

“Uh, what? Yeah, of course, I am! It’s just… You know, I’m nervous. And, like, all of you guys are so professional and I-- well, I am not, it’s only my third shoot and I don’t know, I’m just-- uh, nervous. Yeah.”

Raphael stares at him, trying to untangle that rambling. “Well, we’re professional because it’s our  _ job _ .”, he tells him. “If photography is your job, you should get professional, too. And better sooner than later.”

“Woah, okay, no reason to grow so cold.”, Simon snaps.

“Well, someone’s gotta tell you to get your act together, right?”

At that, he pouts. “Well, but that works nicer, too. You shitting at me certainly won’t help me get better.”

“I didn’t--”

“Anyway, can we wrap up your shoot now? I’d rather finish today, you know?”

“Yeah, would be better. Before you break more cameras.” It’s actually meant as a joke, to loosen up the situation, but as it appears Simon doesn’t share his humour. He’d thought the guy might be nice, but now he feels like he’d never get along with him.

It’s probably for the better if Magnus hears all the models’ complaints and doesn’t hire Simon again.

 

-

 

Not for the first time in his life, Raphael is glad that he's such good friends with his boss. Naturally, they've been friends first rather than employer/employee, but it grants him only a few privileges over other models. He doesn't mind, of course, but those favours come in handy. For starters, it's certain that in the calendar shoot, he'll be staging for one of the winter months. 

He smiles to himself as he sees how the others are dealing with barely wearing anything - sure, it's not cold yet, but it's the middle of September already. Almost too cold for swimming clothes.

“A nice sight, isn't it?”, he hears a voice behind him. 

As he surpresses an eye roll, Raphael turns to see Isabelle, a fellow model. It's no secret that she doesn't like him, so whatever she wants to say can't be something good. 

“I mean, I certainly enjoy the view myself.”, Isabelle says with a smile. “And I'm sure you're enjoying what you can tell your boss.”

“Why would I tell Magnus anything about his models?”

“Ah, come on, Raphael,” she says and curls her lips, “I know that you don't really work for Magnus. See, I don't really understand why you would've given up being the star of  _ DuMort _ .”

Raphael scowls at that. He  _ hasn’t been _ the star of the  _ DuMort _ . Actually, he's barely even had the chance to be a  _ model _ like he'd been employed as - his former boss, Camille, had insisted on acting like he'd been her assistant. And for way too long, he'd accepted not only that but also many other problematic things, until one day about half a year ago it got too much.

“And then you've talked Magnus into hiring you--”

“I haven't  _ talked _ him into it. He’s offered.”, Raphael replies coldly. “In case you missed it, I've known Magnus for longer than you have, alright? Don't act like you're his protector.”

“My, Raphael,” she fakes a laugh, “I know that he doesn't need a protector. And I also know you guys go back. That's why I fear he wouldn't recognise a spy--”

“How did you even come up with this?”, Raphael cuts in. It's not the first time she's brought that crazy idea up.

She blinks at him and just when she opens her mouth to reply, someone calls for their attention.

For the second time, Raphael hides an eyeroll. After the fiasco of the last shoot, he's thought Magnus knew better than to hire that Peter Parker of a photographer again, but apparently his friend is incorrigible. 

The guy calls them together, undoubtedly for another of his pep talks, and grins widely. This time it doesn't falter at the sight of the models but stays the same.

Raphael barely listens to what he says, instead wondering what the other models must've said about that shoot a month ago. If they'd complained, there's no way that Magnus would have invited him again. Granted, Raphael notes, he seems way calmer than back then - he doesn't seem to tremble at all. Oddly enough, he looks more at Isabelle than anyone else.

“Okay, let me finish up with the cameras and then we can start. I think we'll start with January and February and do November and December then so you guys can get out of those warm clothes, right?”, he says and claps into his hands.

His audience scatters, the models in question staying close. For some reason, Isabelle steps closer to the photographer, despite the fact that she's dressed lightly.

“Simon!”, Raphael hears her say. “Look at you, shooting the big calendar!”

Simon smiles at her, baring his teeth. “Well, it’s all thanks to you, isn’t it? Thanks for talking to Magnus--”

Raphael grimaces at that. Of course - the two of them seem to know each other and Isabelle, as the sister of Magnus’ boyfriend, must have convinced him to hire Simon again. Sometimes Raphael wonders what Magnus’ magazine would look like if he didn’t practice such cronyism. 

Isabelle slaps the top of Simon’s head shortly. “Oh, shut up. Don’t start like this. You know exactly that Magnus would’ve called you up again - and not just because the guy likes you, but because he knows your  _ talent _ , Si. So be a good boy and do a good job, alright?”

“Well, it’s not like I don’t try.”, Simon mutters with a pout. His face lights up again when Isabelle kisses his cheek. He laughs and says, “Now hush you, I got a job to do, don’t I?”

She laughs along before hurrying back to the other models. Raphael turns his head away, too, not wanting to see Simon ruin his equipment once again.

Surprisingly - and thankfully - everything’s still in place once he’s finished. And to Raphael’s relief, he doesn’t drop anything as he shoots the pictures. In fact, he’s pretty calm while shooting, barely even commenting the models what to do. He lets them pose by themselves, only correcting them here and there for the lighting. It’s a welcome change from what positions photographers usually force them into, so Raphael doesn’t even worry about his own shoot any more when he sees the workers change the scenery.

He corrects his jacket while they do so, making sure everything’s in place to display Magnus’ works. He knows that’s not even the primary purpose of the calendar, but since he’s not even in a shoot with anyone else (he’s thankful for that) he can’t afford looking ridiculous.

He notices how Simon tenses when he steps into the set, but after merely a moment it’s gone again. The photographer nods at him, indicating that he’s ready and Raphael follows suit.

At first, he feels a bit lost without any orders at how to act. Usually, the photographer has a picture in their head that they want to set into real life, but Simon doesn’t seem to follow those rules. Instead, Raphael stands there for a moment, awkwardly, before thinking of something himself.

It’s probably the most surreal photoshoot he’s ever had, and it also feels like the longest. He’s kept standing in the same positions for minutes, changing them so often still that they must have been going on for at least an hour until Simon tells him that it’s enough. 

Raphael nods, pressing his lips together, and walks off the white sheet. He doesn’t think those pictures will turn out any good - and all of that is Simon’s fault! He’d thought at first that it would be good to have the models do what they want, but now he realizes what a poor job that is - it clearly just shows lack of skill that Simon doesn’t give them any orders. He makes a mental note to tell Magnus about this so that he’d realize that, no matter what he thinks of the guy, he’s not a good photographer.

“Quite revolutionary, isn’t he?”, Maia says once he’s stepped towards the crowd. She’s wearing a dark jacket over her dress that doesn’t belong to the outfit and Raphael can’t help but feel a bit sorry at her apparent discomfort.

“I didn’t know ‘revolutionary’ became a synonym for ‘bad’.”, Raphael replies with a shrug, looking back at the set. Simon’s currently doing something with his camera, making Catarina wait for him.

“But he looks sure of what he’s doing.”

“He has you standing there like a monkey.”, Raphael assures her. “I had no idea what he wanted from me.”

The corner of her lip trembles. “Aw, did you have to think for yourself? Poor guy.”

Raphael rolls his eyes at her before setting sight on her neck. “Your neckerchief is going off.”, he tells her, nodding at it. He knows that Magnus insists on adding one to her outfit at all times and even though he doesn’t know the reason, he feels like it’s as personal as him never shooting in bare skin.

Her hand reaches for it. “Oh, thanks!”, she says before moving to correct it and Raphael averts his eyes, looking at the shoot in front of them.

Simon’s currently doing the same procedure with an older model. He’s silent the whole time except for telling her when to move her chin forward or when to push some hair back. She looks more comfortable than Raphael has felt, but he’s sure she’s just hiding it.

“Well, either way, he’s cute.”, Maia decides.

Raphael groans. Sure, Simon does have quite an adorable aura around him, but if he’d have to chat up any of the guys in the room, he’d certainly not go for the dorky photographer. Trust Maia to not go for the obvious choice. “Whatever. I’m finished, so I’ll get something to eat.”

“Geez, has someone poked you with a stick?”, she wants to know. She’s smiling, though, so Raphael decides to ignore her and leaves.

He’s seen others leave already, either just for a break as they wait, or for real because their shoot was finished, too, so he doesn’t think anyone will miss him. He’ll just go down into the kitchen, eat something and look if there’s anything else he has to do, like audition for other photoshoots or help Magnus with his latest boyfriend drama.

 

-

Raphael is just putting on a cardigan when he hears his youngest brother call for him. Today’s supposed to be a family day, something that he rarely has at the moment because Magnus insists on introducing him to all of his friends (a nice offer, actually, considering most of them are even more important in the branche than Magnus is), so it’s surprising that someone should be at the door and waiting to talk to him.

He walks down the stairs and zips his jacket close before pushing against Franco’s head without any force. “What did Mamá tell you about opening the front door?”

“You didn’t even hear it! And nobody else is there!”, Franco argues. At Raphael’s raised eyebrow he adds, “Ricardo is working and Mamá and Diego are at the store.”

“They left me alone with you without telling me?”

“Well, they called upstairs but you were in the shower.”

“ _ Chinga _ ,” Raphael mutters, “They should’ve waited.”

“You mustn’t swear!”, Franco reminds him. “Besides, I’m nine years old! Why do y’all act like I’m a baby?”

“You like the oven too much.”, Raphael says firmly and scoots him aside. “Go and watch some TV, I’ll be with you in a bit. Who even asked for me?”

“Some guy in glasses.”, Franco says and shoots off.

Raphael looks after him, frowning to himself. He’s have thought his brother would launch into a more in-depth description, but apparently being allowed to watch TV kept him from doing so. He sighs and turns to the door at last.

He doesn’t know whom he’s expected, but it certainly hasn’t been Simon. The guy stands there, wrapped in a trench coat that looks too short, and holding an envelope in his hand. He’s wearing a small smile when he notices that the door opened, staring at Raphael with big eyes.

Raphael’s suddenly aware that his hair’s still drippingly wet and that he’s wearing an old cardigan, and while he usually wouldn’t care, he bites back a grimace at Simon’s look. He shoves his hair back so that it wouldn’t make water drop into his face. “Simon, what are you doing here?”

“Uh, sorry for bothering you, it’s just--”, he starts, quickly looking around, “I’m not interrupting anything, am I? I can just leave, you know?”

Raphael blinks at him. He’d either forgotten or not realized that for the lack of words Simon offers during a shoot, he certainly talks a lot when he’s not busy. Of course, he hasn’t thought too much about him during the last few days - only when he’s told Magnus about how  _ bad _ that shooting has been (Magnus has assured him that Simon must know what he’s doing) - but he’s surprised about that nonetheless.

“Magnus has given me your address, I hope you don’t mind. Your brother - is he your brother? - seems nice, by the way. Sweet guy--”

“Simon,” Raphael cuts him off, “how can I help you?”

“Right.”, he says, breathing in deeply. “See, I wanted to bring you your pictures.”

“What for?”

“Well, I usually do that- or rather, I mean I haven’t done that many shootings yet, but I  _ plan _ to make the models look through the pictures before I hand them to the editor. You know, in case they’re not happy with them at all.”, Simon explains. “So yeah, I developed yours and here you go.”

Raphael looks down at the envelope. “You  _ printed out _ the pictures?”, he wants to know. Usually they’re just sent off per mail and that’s about it. 

“Actually, not  _ printed _ , but-- Uh yeah, I realize now I could’ve sent them to you digitally.”, Simon says, looking thoughtful. “But hey, they could’ve landed in the spam folder and then you’d never have seen them, right?”

Raphael doesn’t reply, still confused by Simon’s behaviour but he accepts the envelope. 

“You can just hand them to Magnus, if you want.”, Simon offers. “He can tell me then or whatever… Or you just call me or something, my number’s in the envelope, yeah?”

“Uh, okay, sure.”, Raphael replies. He’s halfway expected Simon to ask if he can come in, but he doesn’t seem to be that rude. It’s already bad enough that he just shows up like that. He’d have to speak a word with Magnus about handing off his address. “When’s the deadline?”

“Got a few days to spare, no worries.”, Simon gives him a smile. “Anyways, I’ll see you around, I guess. Sorry again for bothering you.”

“Simon,” Raphael says, stopping him from turning around. He doesn’t actually feel like telling him anything, especially since he showed up without any warning, but he also feels like he can’t act like a complete asshole. “Er, thank you.”

“No prob, man.”, Simon says. “Uh, have a nice day. Or week. Or month, whatever. I have no idea when we’ll see each other again, so uh…”

“You ramble a lot, do you know that?”

“Yeah, I’m aware. Bad habit, but it’s not like I can just turn it off. Anyways, I’ll leave now. Bye!”

Raphael stares after him as he shuffles off, looking down at the envelope and shaking his head to himself. He’s still not sure what to think of Simon - so far he’s mostly shown traits that he doesn’t like, but it’s not like Simon seems like a bad guy. Rather, he’s probably just being unintentionally annoying. There’s still the problem with his unorthodox photography process, but he figures it’s better to shove that away until he’s actually looked at the pictures.

For now, though, he has a kid to look after. Knowing Franco, he’s probably found something on the TV that he’s not actually allowed to watch. His brothers can behave when someone of authority is around, but once they’re let alone, hell breaks loose.

 

-

  
  


What other people would probably consider a loud and uncoordinated scene is something that Raphael calls a normal morning. Actually, in comparison to what the mornings have been like when his brothers have been younger, nowadays it's pretty peaceful. He gets to drink his coffee as Ricardo scans through the paper, only having to check if Diego really is eating - at the moment the boy is rather unhappy with his weight and choosing quite an unhealthy way to deal with it. 

Raphael's already asked his personal trainer, Stan, for an appointment so that they could talk about a fitting work-out for the teenager. Diego hasn't seemed too happy about that, and until they've started that method Raphael's decided to keep an eye on his brother’s eating habits.

He thinks their mother has caught a hunch of what's going on, but seeing how she's always busy with the smallest of the boys for the duration of Diego’s breakfast, she couldn't notice him skipping the most important meal of the day.

“Yo, Ra, you’re in the newspaper!”, Ricardo suddenly announces, snapping him out of his thoughts. He lifts the paper but doesn’t move to hand it over.

Diego, dropping his frown at the distraction, leans over his shoulder to look at the article. “Hey, wow, that’s funny. Didn’t know you had a boyfriend, bro!”

“What? I don’t have one.”, Raphael states and gets up, reaching for the paper.

Ricardo keeps holding onto it as Diego reads out, “ _ Model in love: The youngest model of the fashion magazine  _ Magical Bane _ , led by designer Magnus Bane, has finally found love. Only yesterday Raphael Santiago, 20, was seen as he accepted a present from a handsome stranger-- _ ”

“Give me that paper, will you?”, Raphael says again and this time Ricardo lets go. “ _ Chingón _ , thank you.” 

He glances at the page in question and sees a photo of himself and Simon as they’re standing in the doorstep. He’s not quite sure how whoever has seen them interpreted the scene they offered yesterday as romantic, but in the picture his face isn’t visible so it works for the story. It’s probably only the third article the local newspaper did on him and while he’s felt pride about the others, this one makes him furious. Why would they care about his love life all of sudden?

“Listen, this guy is not my boyfriend. I don’t even know him really, alright?”, Raphael says firmly and waits for his brothers to nod at him. “I’ll sort this out. And neither of you mentions this to Mamá.”

“What shall they not tell me?”, Guadalupe wants to know as she enters the kitchen, Franco in tow. 

Nobody particularly likes lying to her, especially not her sons, but Raphael would face her anger about that rather than see her expecting him to introduce a partner any time soon. So, he swallows and says with a grin, “Why, your birthday present, of course.”

His brothers stare at him with big eyes and he doesn’t even need them to say anything to realize his next problem: He needs a  _ really _ good present for their mum.

 

-

 

“Okay, what the fuck is this?”, Raphael demands and smacks the newspaper down on Magnus’ desk, the picture up for him to see.

“Well, a good morning to you, too, my dear.”, Magnus says without looking up from his tablet. “If this is about this lovely article about you and Simon: I have already read it. Congratulations.”

“ _ Magnus _ ,” Raphael says slowly, causing him to look up. “How can this be? I’ve kept a low profile.” At times maybe even too low, cancelling a few jobs that would have raised too much attention on him.

Magnus looks at him, narrowing his brows in thought. After a few moments, he only says one word. “Camille.”

“Camille?”, Raphael repeats. From what he’s seen, the article had actually sounded quite positive. If he hadn’t found it so alarming that there was one at all, he wouldn’t have had any problem with it. Having someone write a nice article about him does not sound like something his ex-boss would do.

“She knows you don’t want to draw any attention, so what better way to get back at you? Plus, someone must’ve told the paparazzo where to find you.”, Magnus offers.

Raphael scowls at that. Someone must definitely pushed a reporter to his house, because he never goes straight home in order to avoid anyone following him. “How do I know that it wasn’t this Simon? You told him my address, after all. He’s probably just used those pictures as an excuse--”

“Simon would never do something like that. I doubt he’s even capable of thinking in a way that’s even slightly evil.”, Magnus shuts him down. “And thank you for not suspecting me--”

“Why would you  _ ever-- _ ”

“I’m assuming you’re not happy with this article?”

“No.”, Raphael says. “I mean, it could be worse but-- I don’t want this. This is a lie -  a rumour - and I don’t want  _ anything _ about my private life anywhere.”

“I see.”, Magnus nods. “I, for my part, think it’s a great PR. Just think what it means for the magazine! We’d totally get an award for LGBT stuff, whatever they hand out nowadays--”

Raphael snorts at that. With all the interviews Magnus gives about him being not only a trans man, but also bisexual, he doubts that they need any more positive mentions of the community.

“I’m seeing this whole series in front of me already,” Magnus continues, holding up his hands, “A story about how you and Simon, a gay and a pansexual man, have found each other in the modelling industry--”

“Magnus! I don’t want even more attention to myself!”, Raphael snaps. “Even if it’s a lie.”

Magnus blinks at him. “ _ Fine _ . Then, I suppose, we should ask your  _ manager _ what to do.” Before Raphael answered, he’s already started opening Skype on his computer.

“Ragnor will kill me, it’s night over there.”, Raphael mutters. At the same time, he’s glad to have the others input on this because Ragnor is quite rational most of the time. He’s glad that he’d chosen him to be his manager when he got chatted up by Camille years ago.

“Well, he’ll deal with it.”, Magnus says. “Ah, hi Ragnor, dear.”

Raphael quickly walks around the table to stand behind Magnus and look at the screen, too. Ragnor’s barely visible in the dark lightning of his surroundings and judging by his face, they must’ve woken him up. 

“What do you arseholes want?”, he grumbles.

“Well, Raph here needs your help. I’ve told him to roll with it, obviously, but I am not his voice of reason like you are.”, Magnus says in a chippy voice.

Ragnor raises an eyebrow and glances at Raphael. “Are you okay, mate?”

“Yeah, no worries.”, Raphael nods and straightens his back. “Just-- publicity.”

“The local paper has brought a piece on how Raphael is dating a photographer of mine.”, Magnus explains. At Raphael’s growl, he adds, “Which he isn’t. But they put one and one together and got five, you know how it is.”

“Hm,” Ragnor says, “Let me hear that article.”

Magnus happily obliges, reading out the article with as much passion as possible for such a short piece. It’s only a bit longer than what Diego had read out earlier and Raphael’s already scanned through it a couple of times on his way to work, but he can’t help but roll his eyes at the depiction of how close he and Simon seem, what a beautiful thing young love is, and and and. 

“Well, that could have been worse.”, Ragnor whistles once Magnus has finished. “So, you’re friends with that guy?”

“I barely know him.”, Raphael shoots back. “And what I’ve seen wasn’t great.”

“Hm,” Ragnor makes again. “So what did he give you?”

“Pictures of my last shoot. Apparently, he wants the models to pick out their favourite before he hands them to Magnus.”

“Cute idea, isn’t it?”, Magnus adds.

“I’d just ignore that article, honestly.”, Ragnor tells them. “It would be a different thing if it was anything bad--”

“It’s from Camille.”

“Really?”

“It’s a safe bet.”

“That complicates things.”, Ragnor says. “If you ignore it, she’ll keep pushing the story in all ways possible. That way you won’t have any rest.”

“So, what? Should I write a counter article?”

“Nah, that’s pushing it, too. Plus, how dramatic would that be?”

Raphael grimaces. From what he’s heard, there’s no way to go back to his quiet life. Not for the first time in his life, he regrets ever talking to Camille. “So there’s no solution?”

Ragnor frowns. “Well, I’d suggest playing along. Have that guy pick you up a few times, make lovey-dovey faces, and soon enough they’ll ignore  _ you _ .”

“I can’t pretend to date Simon! I can barely stand him!”, Raphael argues. Spending more time with Simon than necessary might just mean that he’ll punch him in the face one day. Plus, his family wouldn’t stop teasing him about it.

“You’ll just have to, I don’t know, spend an hour at most with him.”, Ragnor says. “But you won’t--”

“They just want to use me to establish the prejudice that all male models are gay!”, Raphael protests, having no other reason up his sleeve any more. He’s already said so many things that should make both Magnus and Ragnor agree with him about how this is a bad idea, but so far there’s no crumbling in their opinion.

Magnus coughs dryly. “But, darling, you  _ are  _ gay, remember?”

Ragnor grins at that, too. “Plus, I have never heard such a thing. If there’s anyone in the branche who’s rumoured to be gay, it’s designers, not the models.”, he says.

“Yeah, it’s quite annoying. You’d think I mention me being bi often enough, but no.”, Magnus nods.

“Well, I  _ know  _ about my romantic orientation, thank you very much.”, Raphael snaps. “But I’d rather it stayed private.”

“Uh, Raph,” Ragnor starts, “the rumour’s out already. For the public you’re pretty much confirmed gay.”

Raphael sighs. Of course, he should have realized that. Even without any proof, people can hold on to rumours for so long that they think it’s a fact. He’s seen it happening and, frankly, when he’s been younger, he was one of those people. When you’re not in the footlights, you don’t really notice such things.

“Well, then I don’t need to pretend to date Simon, right? No need to push it further, no need to decline it. It’s fine.”, he shrugs. They’ve already been at that point, but he can’t say he really understands the issue.

“Well, there’s another problem.”, Magnus says. 

Raphael raises an eyebrow at him. From the corner of his eye he can see how Ragnor does the same on screen. “What?”

“Your family.”

“What about my family? I’m out to them.”

“No, I know that.”, Magnus says, looking at him as if he’s offended by the idea that Raphael forgets how close he is to the other Santiagos. “But that paparazzo will probably target them eventually. Once they figured out you still live at home.”

Raphael freezes at that. He actually hadn’t thought that far. But really, if they keep looking at him, they’ll eventually see his brothers, too. His mother could probably scare them off by running after them with a pan or something and, come to think of it, Ricardo has quite a death stare, too. Franco, his youngest brother, would either try to befriend that stranger or be scared. And Diego? With his moods being reflected in his appearance, he’ll probably be the worst target.

“I’ll have to move.”, he decides. It’s merely a whisper because he hadn’t thought about that - wanted that - for years. And he still doesn’t want to, but if it endangers the private life of his family, nothing will keep him at home.

“Well,  _ finally _ .”, Ragnor mutters. At the glance Raphael throws at him, he clears his throat. “But actually, you can’t just move out like that. Not all secretly and stuff. No, you have to use that rumour they spread as a distraction. Have that photographer help you move and-- I don’t know--”

“Move in with him.”, Magnus suggests.

Raphael stares at him.

“Look,” Magnus sighs, “It’s obvious that this paparazzo works for Camille, like we said. How else would they have found out where you live?”

“Plus, no offense, but you’re not  _ that _ famous.”

“Yeah, so, if you move out all of sudden, they’ll go and ask Camille what to do. And knowing her, she’ll have them keep an eye on your family. But if you do a  _ great  _ fuss about it, they won’t even have to ask Camille but follow your steps.”

Ragnor nods. “And then you’ll just have to carry on for a while until they’re bored to death and all’s well.”

Raphael raises an eyebrow.

“Really, that’s how they work: New relationship? Big freakin’ deal. But once things go steady, they forget about their victims. Except you’re, like, Louis Tomlinson or something.”, Ragnor explains.

“Well, I see the point.”, Raphael admits, even though he doesn’t like saying it. “But why’d I have to move in with that Spiderman?”

“Seriously, you’re a clever guy, aren’t you? It’s a great fucking door opening for you and you complain?”

“Well, if he hadn’t stopped by my place, I wouldn’t have this problem!”, Raphael argues. He knows that it’s not actually Simon’s fault, the paparazzo would have been there anyway - his family would be in the picture anyway -, but he’s run out of things to say. “Besides, who says he’d agree?”

“Oh, let that be my problem.”, Magnus says with a smile. “Glad you’re coming to your senses.”

Raphael snorts at that. It’s hardly ‘coming to your senses’ when you’re supposed to move in with a stranger whom you don’t even like. He’d avoided moving out for colleges so he wouldn’t have to share his flat.

“I’m glad that’s settled then. If you’ll excuse me, it’s 2am and I actually have a day job, too.”, Ragnor says, and as if to underline what he’s said, lets out a yawn.

“Yeah, whatever.”, Raphael rolls his eyes. “Get yourself to bed.”

“Bye, you lot. And maybe stay out of trouble, yeah?”, Ragnor suggests before disconnecting.

Magnus grins and shakes his head when Raphael turns to him. “Hell, I know we both love the guy but maybe you should get a manager who lives closer to the action.”

 

-

 

“Wait, explain this again.”, Ricardo says, waving his hand rapidly. He’s clasping his mug of coffee in the other, desperately trying to stay awake. Raphael feels sorry for him, considering he’s had a shift until just now, and an exam tomorrow, but he figured he should tell him before there’s any questions.

Their mum is sitting next to him, looking quite confused herself. 

“I’ll move out tomorrow - well, only temporarily.”, he tells them again. “Until things have calmed down. Don’t worry, I doubt you guys will have problems--”, he adds at his mother’s face, “at least not once I’m gone.”

“Where are you going?”

“To a co-workers.”

“Which one?”, his mother wants to know.

“It’s-- this photographer. You don’t know him yet, he’s new, but he’s a friend of Magnus’.”, Raphael says. “He’ll actually help me move my stuff tomorrow.”

“Don’t you think moving in with a boy will raise even more problems?”

“Well, there’ll be rumours, of course.”, Raphael says, “But honestly, they’re not bad as long as those paparazzi don’t bother you guys. In fact, they’ve already started talking like this.”

“Oh!”, Ricardo suddenly makes. “Are you moving in with  _ him _ ?”, he wants to know, jiggling his eyebrows.

Guadalupe looks at him. “With who?”

Raphael sighs. He’s figured he’ll have to show his mother the article some time, so he doesn’t really mind it right now. He’s cut it out before so that she wouldn’t find it even when throwing away the trash, and now he pulls it out to show her. Irony. 

She looks down and takes her time reading it carefully. “Wait, this is this photographer?”

Raphael nods. “Simon.”

“And you’re dating him?”

“No! That’s the whole point!”

“Well,” Ricardo remarks. “The newspaper brings a piece on how you’re supposedly dating a guy and then you want to move in with him?”

“Yeah,” Raphael nods. “Ragnor supposes it’s big enough of a thing to make the paparazzi ignore  _ you _ , like I said.”

“Does that make sense?”, Guadalupe asks, looking at Ricardo in question.

“You know,  _ Mamá _ , I’ve never really understood Ra’s job. For instance, I’ve been wondering for years why anyone would pay money to take a picture of his face--”

Raphael kicks him under the table. “Anyways, it’s actually settled already. I doubt I’ll be gone for more than a month. And, obviously, I’ll visit. Simon lives in Brooklyn, that’s manageable.”

“I think we'd survive a few days without you, man.”, Ricardo says. “You go and snog a guy.”

“That's not-- I don't--”, Raphael gapes at him.

“This whole thing is decided already,  _ no _ ?”, his mother asks. “The only problem is that the boys have school tomorrow…”

“I'm not taking that many things with me. Plus, Simon will pick me up, so he can help carry stuff.”

She looks at him for a moment. There's lines on her forehead, a sign for the stress she's been under half her life and now deepened by thinking about him. 

He reaches over and takes her hand. “ _ Todo está bien, mamá. _ ”

Eventually, she nods. “Well then. Both of you have eventful days ahead, so let's go to bed, shall we?”, she smiles.

Ricardo shrugs and gets up, downing the rest of his coffee into the sink. He looks up at the clock and mutters something under his breath that Raphael can't understand.

Mothers, however, seem to have supernatural hearing. “No, it's late enough and you've studied so much already. You don't need to read through it again.”

“But Mamá--!”

“Don't make me take away your folders.”, she says decidedly and gets up, too. As Ricardo rambles on about how he can't fail this test, she runs a hand through Raphael’s hair. “You go to bed, as well, yeah?”

Raphael nods. He's tired anyways, so he wouldn't do much more than put some clothing away. He doubts he'd just fall asleep like that, considering what will happen tomorrow. And then there's also the fact that he'll have to think of what to tell his other brothers in the morning. He can't just disappear like that, after all.

He's thought of letting them in on the plan, but he doubts that either of them - especially Franco - could keep it a secret. But he wouldn't want to lie to them either, so he has to figure out a fitting excuse. That will probably keep him awake for a while.

With a sigh, he gets up as well. Ricardo’s already creeping up the stairs, so Raphael feels safe enough to mutter, “I'll only be a call away, alright? If you need  _ anything _ \--”

“ _ Cariño _ ,” his mother starts, “I've dealt with kids on my own before. It'll be fine.”

Raphael knows that, of course he does, but back then, he'd been around. Sure, he'd been younger than Ricardo is now, and while his brother seems responsible enough, he can't help but worry whether he'll be missing. If his mum had any more on her plate just because he's not present, he wouldn't be happy with himself. 

She sends him a strict glare to shut off his thoughts. It must be one of her other skills that she always seems to know what's going on in his mind.

He sighs again and kisses her forehead. “Good night, Mamá.”

 

-

 

Seeing Simon early in the morning is quite a sight. It's apparent that the guy isn't a morning person, judging by his rumpled appearance. His clothes look they might be his pajamas with a jacket thrown on top, his eyebrows stand in every direction and his hair is a mess. 

“You look like you could use a coffee.”, Raphael says when he opens the door.

Simon's face lights up at that. “Oh, yes, thank you! My alarm went off way too late and then I didn't have the time because I didn't wanna let you wait--”

Raphael sighs and waves him inside. Before closing the door, he looks down the street, into the direction where the last photo must've been taken from. He doesn't spot anyone, so he closes the door at last. 

Simon's standing in the hall, looking around. Guadalupe has done a good job at teaching her sons that if they need to cause a mess, they should do it in their own rooms rather than the others, so it's fairly clean. There's a big painting on the wall, some artist nobody has ever heard of, but it's bright enough to be a good addition to the room. 

“The kitchen’s the open room on the left.”, Raphael says, pointing for him to go. The hall's barely big enough for them to stand there, so he can't really make his way to the front.

Simon turns and follows, stopping again once he’s inside the room. Raphael motions for him to sit down and steps over to the coffee machine. There’s still a pot they’d brewed this morning, meaning it’s halfway cold already, but he thinks it would be quite a waste to pour it down the sink. He fills a mug and sets it down in front of Simon, along with milk and sugar for him to take.

Then he fills another glass with some apple juice and sinks down across from Simon. “Thank you again.”

“Ah,” Simon says, playing with his spoon. “Don’t mention it. I mean, having a roommate again will be nice. My loft is way too big anyways, so this’ll be fun, right?”

Truth be told, Raphael doubts that they’ll really get along, considering how their previous meetings went -- he supposes their personalities are doomed to clash after only a few days at most. But he presses his lips together and nods.

“Uh, actually, you know--”

“Hm?”

Simon looks at the fridge behind Raphael rather than into his eyes. For a moment Raphael fears he might lose himself in the drawings that Franco has put up there, but after a few seconds, he continues, “I was wondering how-- See, the newspaper thinks we’re dating, obviously. And Magnus mentioned to play into that-- So how do you want to do this?”

Raphael frowns. He hadn’t actually thought this far. He’d figured it would be obvious enough if they carried out his things together and drove off to Simon’s flat. He tells him as much.

“Ah, okay.”, Simon says. “See, I was wondering whether you wanted to do the whole PDA thing, too…”

It hadn’t even occurred to him that that’s something the paparazzi might be after. Of course, there’s pictures of actual celebrities kissing their partners in the newspaper almost daily, but a) he isn’t a celebrity and b) not a fan of PDA in general. In fact, he doubts he’d ever done more than holding hands with his ex when they were outside. Not because he was ashamed of their relationship, as he’d assured Will, but rather because it gave him an uneasy feeling in his chest. It’s not exactly paranoia - and it wouldn’t even come up this time because he’d be aiming at being seen - but something more complex that he can’t pinpoint. 

“I think it’ll be fine like this.”, he decides. “No reason to force you into even more.”

“Woah, you’re acting as if it were such a burden to kiss you.”, Simon blurts out. In the next moment, he blushes terribly and hides his face behind his mug. Feeling sorry for him, Raphael drops it.

They stay silent for a while, just sipping from their drinks until there’s nothing left in Raphael’s glass. Then he says, “I don’t even have that much to move. Just a suitcase and a few things to make it look like it’s permanent. Books, DVDs, that stuff.”

“Fine by me. As long as I’m not supposed to move a piano.”

“Well, my mum would be really mad if I were to move ours.”

Simon looks at him with big eyes. All of sudden he doesn’t look as tired any more. “You actually have one? What kind? Do you play?”

“Not that often any more.”, Raphael replies. “I can show you, though. We’ll have to go past it while going upstairs anyways.”

“Well then!”, Simon decides and empties his mug at last. He sets it down and says, “Let’s go!”

He looks so excited that Raphael can’t help but chuckle at his behaviour, getting up from his seat and reaching for his wrist. He pulls him after him, up the first flight of stairs. “It’s just this room-- because my mother thought we’d break the instruments if we took them to ours.”, he explains when they enter the rooms to the right. “Plus we had this spare room, so we figured better put it to good use.”

Simon looks around, a big smile plastered on his face. “This is  _ great _ !”, he exclaims. He moves closer to the piano, pressing a few of the keys down. “How old is it?”

Raphael looks at the piano, too. He’s never actually thought of it in as much wonder as Simon displays - at times he’d been annoyed by it looking so chapped. The stool is decorated with an old embroidering that’s haunted him in his sleep when he was younger. It’s always worked, though, and that’s what counts. “I don’t know, to be honest. My mum got it shortly after we moved here, so it’s older than eight years.”

“Yeah, obviously.”, Simon nods. He moves his hand over the wood. “I’m not an expert on pianos, of course, but I think those are from the 50s, actually. It’s beautiful.”

He moves away from it then, turning to the other instruments. As Simon rambles on about the worth of each of them (Raphael’s surprised to hear about it. Their family had gotten all of those not second-hand but even more passed down and never paid more than a hundred bucks.), Raphael backs against the wall, smiling softly at the other’s excitement. 

Simon seems particularly in love with the guitar. They haven’t had it for too long, since Diego bought it with the money he earned last summer, but according to the photographer it’s older than he’d thought. “It’s not their most expensive, of course, but it’s awesome enough. I have a Gibson, too.”

“You play, too?”

“Yeah!”, he replies enthusiastically. “I’ve actually quit college to make money with my band. That didn’t work out because after only a few months I suddenly was solo, but thankfully Magnus trusts my photography skills enough to pay for my life.”

Raphael nods. He’s actually kind of glad to learn that becoming a photographer wasn’t on top of Simon’s wishes - the pictures might have turned out good enough, but he’s still not really sure it will work out with his whole procedure - but he’s also feeling sorry that he’s forced to do it anyway. He’s never had actual expectations for his own life, thankfully, so he can’t even imagine what the other must feel like. He probably doesn’t know better than to approach the job like he does.

“Hell, I’ll come back here just for a jam session.”, Simon decides and grins at him. “Do you play all of those?”

Raphael shakes his head. “Piano. And a few basic beats on the drums. Franco - you’ve met him, remember? - he’s a natural with the drums. And Diego’s particularly fond of the guitar, even though he’s not really good yet. The oldest of my brothers is quite a good singer but he can’t stand the attention.”, he goes on. “My mum knows the basics to all of those.”

Simon whistles through his teeth. “Man, I love your family already. My mum’s happy if she manages a lullaby. And my sister-- she’s good at dancing, but that’s it. I’ve pretty much gotten it from my dad.”

“He’s probably encouraged you having your band?”

“I think he would have.”, Simon shrugs. “He’s died years ago, though.”

“I’m sorry.”, Raphael says in all honesty. Their reasons may be different, but he knows how it feels to be poked at the absence of his father. He decides that it’s better to change the subject. “Well, if you’re finished with making love to lifeless objects, there’s even more waiting for you upstairs.”

“Huh?”, Simon makes, snapping out of his thoughts. “Oh, uh, yeah. Let’s move.”

 

As it turns out, Simon is not as clumsy as Raphael had thought. He’s made him carry down only light things that he either wouldn’t miss or that wouldn’t break so that there wouldn’t be any drama in case his behaviour from their first shoot repeated itself. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t drop anything, and Raphael has to admit that he’s also delighted that Simon didn’t even do so much as frown at the crucifix that’s in one of the boxes.

In response, however, Raphael can’t hide his shock when he sees the car that Simon drives. It’s a van from Ford, baring not just a tacky yellow colour that comes off here and there but also some graffiti (which is done quite well in contrast, though). In summary, it looks as if it’s gonna break down any second and Raphael’s quite scared of putting any weight on it. 

“Don’t worry.” Simon must have noticed his concern. “It looked way worse when I first got it and it’s never let me down.”

It doesn’t really make Raphael trust the vehicle any more, but he guesses even if they broke down, Simon would have experience with it. Plus, if the paparazzo follows them, they’ll certainly have something to gawk at. So he nods and heaves the suitcase he’d been carrying into the back. 

“Any more you’ve got up there?”

“My… hygiene products,” he says for a lack of a better word, “And a few more books, I guess.”

“Better let me look through those first. So we don't bring any I already own.”, Simon offers. “I’m sure they won’t be too extra, will they?”

It takes them about half an hour until they’re back out again. Raphael’s insisted on taking some books with him at least, because it wouldn’t look appropriate for him to fake moving out without any literature, and it’s taken long enough to find some that Simon doesn’t already own (as it turns out, he seems to consume a lot). In the end, he’s started to carry away old philosophy books that Ricardo hopefully won’t need any time soon.

As they drive off Raphael notices that Simon’s a rather good driver. There’s no obstacles in their way, of course, so he doesn’t need to prove himself but Raphael appreciates that he doesn’t insult all of the other drivers and doesn’t hit the speed limit. He’s driven with Ragnor often enough to have different experiences. Simon easily navigates through the thick traffic (although, had they been any earlier, it would’ve been worse) and after only twenty minutes - spent with listening to the radio to avoid any conversation - he turns to park behind a tall building.

At first, Raphael had thought that Simon might want something to eat - the ground floor of the building is taken up by a Chinese restaurant - but to his surprise, he announces that they’ve arrived. Frowning, Raphael climbs out of the passenger’s seat.

His confusion must be apparent because Simon elaborates, “I live up there.” He points towards the fire escape leading up to a narrow metal door.

“Do we have to use--  _ that _ ?”, Raphael wants to know.

Simon frowns at him. “Well, I mean, you could also walk into Jade Wolf and punch a hole into the ceiling. I’m not stopping you.”

Raphael gives him a sour look in return. Okay, maybe that question was stupid, but there’s no need to make fun of him. Reluctantly, he follows him up the metal steps, feeling as if they moved along with each time he sets his foot down.

On top of the staircase is a tall but rather slim metal door that looks like it’s not meant to grant the entrance to any living area. Simon, however, takes out a set of keys and opens it to reveals a small entrance hall. It barely has enough space for the two of them, mostly because there’s an unorganized pile of shoes to the right, and Raphael feels almost claustrophobic when Simon shuts the metal door.

Then he opens the door in front of them, and Raphael’s looking at a huge room. He’s pretty sure that it must be as big as one floor of his Mamá’s house, so he gasps. They’re looking at a corner that’s chosen to be the dining area, parted from the kitchen by a counter in the middle of the room. 

It’s kept in a sterile white safe for the wildly mixed chairs around the brown table and a big poster of a movie he doesn’t recognize on the wall. The window sill carries a few frames and on every other surfaces things are crammed together as if someone wanted to clean up by just piling things on top of each other. Raphael assumes that’s exactly what Simon’s done. For some reason, it makes him smile.

“Well?,” Simon starts. “Welcome to  _ mi casa. _ ”

He steps further into the room and Raphael, still a bit shocked, stares at the big and bright room in awe as he closes the door. Half of the left wall is a row of windows, making the white almost hurtful to his eyes. 

“How do you afford this?”, he blurts out before he can stop himself. Normally he’d never just ask something like that but he’d thought Simon would live in a flat that resembles a broom closet. In comparison to this, however, it’s his family’s house that looks like a box. And he’s only been in one room so far.

Simon turns to look at him. He looks a bit embarrassed and scratches the back of his head. “Barely, actually,” he admits. “I know the guy who owns it, though, and he only makes me pay like a few hundred bucks a month.”

Raphael just nods at that, not trusting himself to answer. He’s feeling angry all of sudden, about how his mother has had to do multiple jobs throughout most of his childhood until he got old enough to work, too, just so they could afford to keep their house - a place with just as much space as they need, safe for the music room maybe. And Simon gets a place for himself that’s as big and doesn’t even really have to pay? It seems pretty unfair.

Simon doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort. Instead, he continues, “His step-daughter, Clary, used to live here, too. Moved in with her girlfriend, though, so there’s enough space for you now. Come along, I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

He runs off without waiting for Raphael’s reply, leaving him to stalk after him through the big room. Past the kitchen, the room continues to the right, transforming into a living room. Straight forward is a handful of steps that Simon climbs up, past his own set of music instrument on the rostrum. He stops in front of a door on the right and opens it.

Raphael is almost delighted that this room is rather small. In fact, it might just be smaller than his own. It’s empty, safe for a desk and a bed.

“My room’s across,” Simon says and points towards it. “The room next to this one was Clary’s studio - it’s still rather full and messy, so you don’t want to go in there, trust me. The bathrooms are down the hall.”

Raphael doesn’t miss the plural in this but he’s able to hide his surprise by just nodding again. 

Now, though, Simon must have noticed something’s off because he coughs awkwardly before rubbing his hands together. “Well then, let's get the rest of your stuff and then you can settle in, right?” He turns, again, without waiting for a response.

Raphael looks after him and finally lets out a sigh. Comfort aside, he feels like the next couple of weeks won’t be much fun. 

 

-

 

“Well, that certainly is a good beginning.”, Magnus decides with a smile. He puts down the newspaper and looks up at where Raphael is standing.

“It better be. I’m going insane.”, Raphael answers. He’s not even exaggerating. While Simon’s not as bad to live with as he’d thought, he’s yet to get used to how big the flat is. And how empty. While he never has a quiet second back home, he has way too much of those at Simon’s flat. He feels as if he can hear literally everything going on in the world at night, when there’s not even any sound coming from either the television or Simon’s laptop. The sound of the flat breathing on his own keeps him awake for quite some time at night.

He’s only spent the weekend in the loft so far and dedicated most of the time to avoiding Simon’s request to join him in the living room as he watched movies of seemingly every genre. He’s learned by the decorations all over the flat that sci-fi - and Star Wars in particular - must be his favourite, so he estimates that at least half of those invitations were about anything within that franchise. He has also learned that Simon is a vegetarian. That wouldn’t be a problem - Raphael’s been raised with eating meat only on Sundays after church but when he looked into the fridge after he came home yesterday and hadn’t found any, his mood sank somewhat. 

On his way to work this morning, which thankfully takes up about the same time as from his family’s house, he’s picked up the local newspaper and scanned through it on the subway. As it appears, the paparazzi have taken the bait - there’s been a picture of him and Simon as they moved boxes into the van, along with a text about how the “ _ handsome couple must have realized that love is nothing to hide, as they moved together at last _ ”. It’s really sickening.

“What do you think, how long until I can go home?”, Raphael wants to know.

“A while, I’d say.”, Magnus answers. “I’d stir up some more about how cute you guys are and all that.”

“Wait are you--”

“Suggesting that you go on dates? Yeah, I am.”

Raphael stares at him with an open mouth. “ _ No _ .”

“ _ Raphael. _ ”, Magnus says, making every single letter sound like they last a minute each. It’s the perfect mixture of seriousness and pleading and he knows exactly that Raphael can’t say no to that. It’s the same voice he’s used years ago when he convinced Raphael to take up Camille’s offer on being a model of hers - back when Magnus wasn’t famous himself yet. “We’ve been through this. Besides, you live with the guy already. How hard can it be?”

“Have you ever been to Simon’s place?”, Raphael asks. He doesn’t expect Magnus to nod, but he does. “Well, then you’ll know how big that flat is. I practically don’t have to see him ever!”

Magnus blinks at him. “You know, half the time I think you really can’t stand him. Why is that? Simon’s perfectly nice.”

“I  _ know _ . That’s the worst part.”, Raphael says. “I  _ know _ he’s not awful and yet he gives me bad vibes. I don’t even know-- I guess we must be too different.”

They look at each other for a moment after that. He feels warmth creep up his cheeks, considering he barely ever admits his own feelings like that - no matter what kind. His confusion about Simon causes him to behave somewhat weirdly. He’d have thought that Magnus would shut him down about those doubts, or that he’d offer advice, but surprisingly he does no such thing. Instead, he frowns.

It takes a few more seconds until he finally sighs. “I still think that doing something together in public would help. Go grab a coffee or something.”, Magnus offers. 

“I’ll think about it.”

“Discuss it with him.”, Magnus says calmly. “Maybe he’s got an idea.”

“I will  _ not _ go to Simon and tell him ‘Hey, listen I kind of can’t stand you but will you help me some more?’ - I already feel bad enough as it is.”, Raphael shoots back. But he knows that they’ve already started this whole thing and that Simon probably wouldn’t mind but he feels that he’s rather acting like an asshole. At the same time, if he  _ were _ to carry on, he really should converse with Simon beforehand rather than pull him into something he wouldn’t like at all. When did this become so difficult?

“Now, my dear, I have some work to do. Of course, I’d rather keep talking to you but alas--”

“Yeah, sure.”, Raphael says. He feels incredibly stupid for taking up his friend’s time for such nonsense anyways. “I’ll be-- down.”

“You could call Ragnor again.”, Magnus offers as Raphael moves to the door.

Raphael pretends that he considers it, fully aware that he’d be killed if he disturbed Ragnor again about this topic. 

 

“Ah, there he is!”, Maia calls as soon as Raphael’s entered the canteen. He considers just turning around again but she waves him closer, a determined expression on her face. It leaves him no other chance than to come to her table.

His mood lifts somewhat when he sees that today she’s just sitting with Meliorn - no trace of Isabelle anywhere. For some reason that is beyond him, the two women have been friends before he even started working here, meaning they usually spend all the time together. Sighing softly, he sits down next to Meliorn.

He regrets that decision within just a second. Maia stares at him with big eyes, still with her determined expression. As he raises an eyebrow at her he sees that her hand’s lying on something.

“Oh.”, he makes when he realizes what it is. “You’ve read the news.”

“Indeed, I have.”, Maia says. Her voice is neutral, even though her face isn’t. “Can you explain this?”

For a moment Raphael considers it. After all, Maia and Meliorn are pretty much the only friends he has at work - beside Magnus, of course. The others either don’t care for him (or vice versa) or Isabelle has made them avoid him. And additionally, the show he and Simon put on is mostly for the press. He could tell the whole building as long as nobody decides to publish it.

Maia doesn’t let him speak, though. “Like really, Santiago? You didn’t even appear to like Simon! And suddenly you’re dating him?”

“Wait,” Meliorn says calmly. He straightens his back and blinks a few times as if he were waking. “Whom is Raphael dating?”

Maia opens her mouth to answer, scrambling to pick up the newspaper, but Raphael shuts her down. “Nobody.”

“What? No, you are. Simon.”

“No, I’m  _ not _ .”, Raphael whispers. “It’s just-- a plan.”

“A plan?”

So he starts explaining it to them. Honestly, he still doesn’t understand how it’s supposed to work, but both Meliorn and Maia nod along as if it made perfect sense. He doesn’t tell them how weird he feels about living in Simon’s flat but makes it perfectly clear that he doesn’t enjoy it.

When he’s finished, Maia leans back again, a small smile on her lips. “So once this whole mess is over I can ask him out, yeah?”

Raphael doesn’t know if she seeks to actually date him or whether just to have some fun, but for some reason he feels like they wouldn’t get along that much either. Maia  _ is _ quite a cheery person, but in contrast to Simon she’s merely a star in comparison to the sun. He figures that she’d grow very irritated by him after a while. If  _ he _ were to actually date Simon, he doubts they’d stay together for more than just a few days. Thinking about all this, he presses his lips together and shrugs.

“Awesome!”, Maia smiles before turning to Meliorn. “And what about you and Seelie? Last I heard there was some big drama.”

Raphael doesn’t know if she did that change of topics on purpose or if it just so happened, but he’s thankful nonetheless. There’s no point in discussing his faked love life any further.

 

-

A week into living in the loft and Raphael is still not able to fall asleep. He's tried turning and tossing around for what must have been hours but while he's exhausted, he just won't fall asleep. This time he doesn't even hear anything going on in the building, no running water taps to keep him away and nobody breaking into the restaurant beneath them - it almost feels like the lack of noise is what keeps him awake.

With a sigh he gets up, planning to get something to drink from the kitchen. He's only on the rostrum, though, when he notices some light coming from his left. He looks over the railing and spots Simon lying on the couch, thumbing through his phone.

It must be the fact that he's tired that makes him turn towards the living room area when he reaches the end of the steps. 

Simon hears him and sits up, turning. “Can't sleep either, huh? Full moon, you know-- it's horrible for me, I don't even know why. I've kept the TV off so I wouldn't wake you.”

“Would've had better chances of getting me  _ to _ sleep, I bet.”, Raphael huffs. At Simon's raised brows, he adds, “Falling asleep in total silence is quite a change when you have a brother whose snore is audible in the whole house.”

Simon laughs softly at that. He pats the other couch that divides the area from the other half of the room. Raphael follows his invitation and pulls his knees to his chest when he sits down - it feels weird to not avoid Simon at last, especially since it's the middle of the night. His eyes find the clock and he's not even surprised to see it's almost 3am.

“Well, I suppose I could put something on now.”, Simon says. He gets up to flip through a stack of DVDs on the sideboard. “Here, my sister always says this one is boring as hell. I guess you could easily fall asleep--”

Raphael shrugs in response. He doubts that he'd fall asleep with Simon next to him.

Simon turns on the TV, puts the DVDs in and goes back to the couch. Raphael can't do anything but stare at him when the other stacks some pillows into the place where the couches meet and indicates for Raphael to lie down. It’s awkward, but Raphael really doesn’t feel like arguing, so he follows suit. He lies on his side so he’s able to look at the TV.

Again, Simon smiles at him softly before reaching for the remote.

Raphael grimaces as soon as the opening credit start. “Who even falls asleep during Batman v Superman?”

“What? You know it?”, Simon wants to know. “I thought you weren’t one to even  _ know _ comics exist.”

“Please, I have  _ three _ younger brothers.”, Raphael shoots back. He doesn’t think that Simon needs to know  _ he _ was the one who introduced DC to  _ them _ . “And before you ask: DC all the way.”

“Really? Nah, like, the X-Men would freaking deck the Justice League.”

“I’d like to see Professor X read Superman’s mind.”, Raphael says with a smirk. “He’d just have to put off his filter and the guy would implode.”

“So would Sups, though.”

“He’s an alien, he’ll live.”

“Hm,” Simon makes and stays silent. Instead, he leans back against the couch and focusses on the movie.

Raphael looks at him for a moment. He doesn’t know if it’s the the bad lighting, but Simon doesn’t look as relaxed or cheerful as he usually does. Instead, his face seems kind of tense, as if he were thinking about something. Raphael wonders what it could be and whether that’s the actual reason for him still being awake - with how Simon portrays himself usually, it seems impossible that he could take anything serious. After a few more seconds he blinks, though, and suddenly he looks more at ease and like he’s finally concentrating on the movie.

Raphael does the same.

 

-

 

Within the days that he hasn’t been at home, Raphael has almost started to believe that he misses his brothers. Not only is it the silence that is bothering him but for some reason also the fact that when he’s alone, he is  _ alone _ . At home, there’s barely a moment that he truly has to himself. One of his brothers would always come in to either show him or ask for something. 

Now that he’s at his gym with Diego, he has no idea how he could ever miss his whining. 

“I still don’t understand why I have to come here!”, Diego cries, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He doesn’t look really comfortable in his gym wear. “Honestly, I’m already doing stuff--”

“No, you aren’t. Quite the opposite, in fact. You’re  _ not _ eating, for example.”

In response, Diego mutters something in Spanish under his breath. Raphael wonders if he should call him out on it, but he figures it’s better not to start a fight at the moment. Instead, he crosses his arms, too. 

All of sudden, Diego speaks up again. “How’s things with your boyfriend?” He says it with such earnestness that Raphael’s confused. Then he remembers that half his family thinks he’s actually dating Simon.

In fact, Franco has called him on the very evening that he’s moved out and cried about how it wasn’t fair he left while the others weren’t even at home. Raphael couldn’t tell him that it was part of the plan so that nobody could write an article about how supportive the boys are of their brother’s relationship and so forth. 

Diego, on the other hand, took it upon himself to ignore Raphael until he’s proposed as to when they could meet up with Stan. He’d received a snappy answer then about how that wouldn’t clash with the secrets he keeps. Raphael’s struggled to find out that Diego’s referred to him having claimed that he doesn’t have a boyfriend only to move out a couple days later. He should probably consider explaining the truth to his brother - sure, he’d be mad about having been lied to  _ now _ , but he’d probably understand.

“Simon’s… great.”, Raphael replies honestly. Considering the circumstances, Simon could be way worse to deal with. Especially after watching a movie together, Raphael would have thought the other would try to force him to spend more time together. He’s done no such thing, though. The most he does is ask him once whether he wants to hang out and drop it when Raphael says no. 

They have started talking more, however, because Raphael’s taken it upon himself to actually drink coffee in the flat before leaving for work. They don’t really talk about anything serious (safe for the time that Simon’s noticed Raphael has the make-up artists cover up the scar on his cheek during shoots - he’s been confused to see it in the morning) but they’re quite friendly with one another.

“That’s nice.”, Diego decides. He doesn’t sound delighted, but he’s not pissed either so Raphael accepts the silence that follows.

It takes some more time until Stan emerges from one of the back rooms. Diego stares at him with big eyes and he can’t actually blame him for it. Stan’s not only muscular, but he’s also a show-off, so he’s wearing a tank top over his shorts. Then he also looks like a mixture of Edward Cullen and some Gossip Girl character. Raphael’s pretty sure that if he’d put off his sexuality crisis longer, meeting Stan would’ve put him right on to it. So yeah, his little brother could and should be impressed by his personal trainer.

“That’s the man?”, Stan smiles as he steps up to them, eyeing Diego up and down. “You really are an even smaller version of Raph, aren’t you?”

Diego scowls at that as Raphael frowns. Of course, there’s some similarity between them, but only so much that you can see they’re brothers. It’s not like Diego is a copy of him.

“Raphael’s told me a bit about you. Barely eating, eh? For how long?”, he wants to know and Raphael appreciates his lack of judgement at that. Knowing Diego, his mood would sink even lower if he’s criticized.

“About a month.”, Raphael tells him.

“I see. And, did it do anything?”

Diego blushes and mumbles, “Few pounds--”

“Hm,” Stan makes at that. “Look, I’m sure your brother’s told you that sports are important for using weight, too. And you can’t just go around eating nothing. Your body needs something to live on, you know? But still, if you barely ate and haven’t lost that much, maybe you should see a doctor--”

“I’m not ill!”

“Well, of course not. But having your thyroid checked out during puberty is a good thing anyways.”, Stan continues. Raphael notes that he’s never gotten his checked, either, but if it’s got something to do with your weight he figures he’s safe. “Tell you what. The two of us are gonna go talk some more while Raphael’s doing his training, yeah?” Stan puts a hand on Diego’s shoulder.

Diego looks up at Raphael. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he looks scared.

“Go ahead,” Raphael prompts. “I’ll be right here, yeah?”

For a moment, Diego looks as if he were about to say something, but then he just nods. Stan smiles and closes his arm around Diego’s shoulders so that he can lead him to his backroom.

Raphael looks after them for a few more seconds and wonders whether he’s done the right thing with practically forcing Diego to come here. He knows how hard Stan’s training regime can be - maybe it’ll be too much for Diego, who’s never actually done more than the P.E. classes at school. Will Stan know not to overdo it?

But then again, he remembers, Stan is a  _ trainer _ . He’ll have learned to deal even with total beginners. It’ll be fine.

 

-

 

Raphael sits up when there’s a knock on the door. He sets his book down and looks at the clock on the wall. Usually Simon doesn’t even try to talk to him after 8pm, so it’s quite confusing that he does so now. “Come in!”

“Uh, sorry for bothering you,” Simon says as he sticks his head inside. He does look quite awkward. “It’s just... Magnus just called me.”

“Magnus called you?”, Raphael repeats. 

Simon steps in and sits down on the office chair. “Yeah, about-- well, he said you probably wouldn’t bring it up, so he decided to.”

Raphael hides a groan. He has an idea what this is getting at.

“Um, he said something about how we should play it up more.”, Simon continues, grimacing a bit. “You know, the--”

“I know.”, Raphael cuts him off. He thinks about what to say. He can’t just tell Simon that he wouldn’t feel comfortable at all about doing anything with him in public. “I’ve, er, thought about it. I couldn’t come up with any ideas, though.”

“Tell you what,” Simon says at that, as if he doesn’t even have to think about it. Raphael supposes he must have done so beforehand. “I’ll bring you to work tomorrow. I need to go to Clary’s studio anyways. The paparazzi will see us leave together and--”

Raphael nods. Now that he says that, Raphael’s surprised that he hasn’t seen any article about how both of them only ever leave the flat on their own. At the same time, he hasn’t seen anything about his family either, so the paparazzo must have left the house alone. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Nice,” Simon smiles. “When do you have to be there?”

“Around 9.”, Raphael responds. He doesn’t have fixed working hours, but he’d wanted to look at the open campaigns tomorrow and figured he better be early before everything’s gone.

“Okay, then I won’t sleep in.”, Simon promises with a grin. Usually he only gets up when Raphael is about to leave, making him stay a bit longer in return. He gets up from his seat. “Well, then. See you tomorrow. And, uh, sleep well?”

“You too.”

 

The next morning, Raphael’s again impressed by what a good driver Simon is. This time the radio is on again, and Simon sings along. He has a nice voice, a bit high at times, but fitting to how he interprets every song. It doesn’t necessarily sound exactly the same as what’s playing on the radio, but it’s quite nice.

He finds himself humming along a few times, too, but stops when Simon glances over to grin at him. Instead, his own eyes are mostly focussed on the window.

“Um, Clary’s studio’s not too far from Magnus’ building, so I’ll just keep the car parked there.”, Simon informs him. Raphael nods, not really sure why he’d tell him that - it’s not like they agreed to drive home together, too. But then he explains further, “I figured I could… uh, walk you to the entrance--”

“Alright.”

“... Holding hands.”

“Oh,” Raphael makes. Of course, it makes sense - when couples go somewhere together, they usually hold hands. If they want to play up their supposed relationship, it’d be logical to do so. “Okay.”

“Are you sure?”, Simon asks with a tremble in his voice. 

“Yeah.”, Raphael says calmly. At the same time, he feels a twist in his stomach when Simon parks the car in a side street. He decides to push that feeling away by pretending to be brave, though, so he is the one holding out his hand when Simon gets out of the car as well.

Simon gives him a tight smile as he takes it. His hand is surprisingly soft - Raphael would have thought it to be calloused by how much of the things he does depend on the hands. Certainly both photography and the guitar are hard on the skin. He wonders if Simon uses any hand creams.

They’re holding on to each other tightly, but not so much that it’s uncomfortable. In fact, the only reason that makes Raphael feel awkward is that it’s  _ Simon _ he’s walking with. He guesses it must be because they’re doing it on purpose.

When they’re in front of the entrance door, Simon turns so that they stand face to face. He leans down to whisper into Raphael’s ear and he wonders that he’s doing, feeling himself starting to blush, “I can see the paparazzo.”

“What?”, Raphael breathes back. “How do you know?”

“Well, he’s wearing a cap and a scarf, for starters. Could barely see his face. Neither tourists nor semi-professional photographers walk around like this, trust me.”, Simon continues. 

Raphael inhales deeply and moves to look around but Simon stops him by placing a hand against his cheek.

“You want to lead him on, don’t you? Then don’t look.”, he says. “I-- um, can I kiss you? To convince them, you know.”

Raphael looks at him. There’s a red shadow on his cheeks as well, probably not just caused by the awkward smile. His eyes dart down at Simon’s lips and as the other licks them, he sees how chapped they are. He still feels Simon’s hand against his cheek, not moving at all. For some reason none of that keeps him from nodding again.

It’s all that Simon needs to put pressure on his hand to pull Raphael closer. He doesn’t put much force behind it, as if to leave him the chance to still say no, and when their lips meet it’s a chaste kiss. His other hand is still holding on to Raphael’s, but he lets it go when he moves to place it on Simon’s hip.

It’s as if both of their brains were hit by short-circuit. All of sudden, Simon moves the hand holding onto Raphael’s cheek so that it rest against the back of his head, pulling him even closer. Raphael grips his hands into Simon’s hips to make the space between them even smaller and when he feels Simon’s tongue against his lips, he doesn’t even hesitate to open it.

They only snap out of it when one of them - Raphael doesn’t know who it was, but he fears it might have been him - lets out a small moan. It takes all his willpower not to jump away from Simon but to make it look as if they’d kissed like that a thousand times already.

Simon pants softly as he tears his eyes from Raphael’s to look over his shoulder. He’s already dropped his hand. “Yeah, they got their pictures.”

“That’s good.”, Raphael says, breathing hard himself. “Yeah, that’s…”

“Um, I think I’ll get going now. How do you get home? I could pick you up again.”

Raphael swallows. He takes his hands off Simon’s hips at last. If Simon picked him up, they’d probably have to kiss again - something he can’t possibly do. “No, it’s fine. I’ll take the subway.”

“Okay.”, Simon nods. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“Yeah.”, Raphael says again. He watches Simon as he walks down the street and turns to the door. He looks to his right for a second, but the paparazzo must have gone already.

He curses himself for reacting to Simon’s kiss like that - they were supposed to act like it was a normal kiss to say goodbye and instead he’s acted like a teenager who got to finally kiss his crush. He supposes that his body has just reacted after being kissed again after years and that Simon just so happened to suffer through it. He’ll have to  _ apologize _ to him tonight for acting like this.

He rubs over his cheek (the one Simon’s held onto) as he enters the building. Immediately, he considers leaving again.

Standing in front of him with a bright grin plastered onto his face is Ricardo. He looks like Christmas had come early. “Well, that certainly was a show,” he whistles.

“Shut up,” Raphael barks, feeling himself blush again. “What are you doing here?”

“Class was cancelled and I figured while I’m already in town, I could visit my favourite brother at work.”, Ricardo says in a chill voice. “I mean, had I known I’d see you fucking ravish a guy--”

“Language,” Raphael says out of reflex.

“Well,  _ chinga _ then.”, Ricardo rolls his eyes. “What? You curse in Spanish all the time! Are you pretending to be a mother just to change topics?”

Unable to counter anything, Raphael shakes his head. He starts for the elevator, trusting his brother to come along. When they’re both alone in it, he explains in a low voice, “That paparazzo was there.”

“Ah, I see.”, Ricardo says, still smirking. “That’s why you ruined the guy more than anyone I’ve ever seen you make out with.”

“Well, let’s be glad you never saw much then, shall we?”

“Did you see him then?”

Raphael blinks at him. “See whom?”

“The paparazzo! Hell, did your brain sink southside?”

“Simon saw him,” Raphael explains and rolls his eyes. “The guy was masked, though.”

“Hm,” Ricardo grins. Raphael glares at him, prompting to say, “So you don’t even know if you were watched? That’s a pretty good excuse for a kiss--”

“He wouldn’t lie to-- Simon doesn’t want to kiss me!”

“Looked different to me.”, Ricardo says. “I mean,  _ you _ also still--”

Raphael shakes his head. Luckily, the door opens before he has to reply and he sets off without waiting for the other. Of course, Ricardo is next to him again in the next second, thanks to his long legs.

“Okay, fine, I’ll stop teasing you. I actually wanted to ask if you--”

“Hey, Santiago! Who’s that cutie?”

Raphael rolls his eyes as Isabelle steps closer to them. Of course, he should have expected her to be present just when he doesn’t need her at all. Plus, the way she eyes Ricardo certainly doesn’t make him feel better about the whole situation.

“I-- um, I’m Ricardo.”, he says with a smile, looking quite dizzy all of sudden. And that’s the guy who’d made fun of him for reacting to a kiss. “Ra’s-- _ Raphael’s _ brother.”

“Are you?”, Isabelle says, smiling at him. “I bet you want to start modelling, too? You’ll certainly have better chances than your brother. Nobody will have to check your height before each shoot.”

Raphael scowls at her. He’d very much like to point at the fact that he’d be taller than her if she weren’t wearing high heels, but apparently that’s a whole different thing.

Ricardo is affected by her comment, too. He places his hand on hers and pushes it softly away from his biceps. Raphael knows that he probably wouldn’t have done it if it were any other place, if he didn’t have a scar right underneath it. Or maybe he would have let her touch him if she hadn’t pointed out his resemblance to their father. “No, actually I’m just spending a free period here.”, he tells her. “I study -- to become a teacher.”

“Really? But not at NYU, do you? I’m sure I would’ve seen you around.”

“Uh, actually at Kings--”

“What do you mean ‘seen him around’?”, Raphael cuts in. 

“Why, Raphael,” she says in a sweet voice, “I do go to university, didn’t you know?”

Raphael shakes his head. Of course, it makes sense that modelling is not her full-time job either. Like him, she must have most of the time off. Unlike him, she apparently isn’t wondering if she should take up another job or whether to stay at home and take care of the house.

“See, learned something again.”, she nods. Then she smiles at Ricardo again. “I will leave you two alone now, got things to do. Have a nice day, Ricardo.”

As she stalks off, he gawks after her. “Who was that?”

“Isabelle Lightwood.”

“Lightwood?”

“Yeah, the sister of Magnus’ boyfriend.”, Raphael shrugs. “She hates me.”

“Woah, I couldn’t tell.”, he grins. “You don’t happen to know if she’s--”

Raphael glares at him. “Really? I tell you she hates me and you want to  _ date _ her? Some brother you are.”

In return, Ricardo grins. “It’s my brotherly duty, you know that. Besides, how come I’ve never met any of your co-workers? They’re models! It’s heaven! You must be quite sad that you have to pretend--,” he coughs, “I mean… Simon doesn’t look too bad, I suppose.”, he corrects himself as he remembers there’s other people in the kitchen.

“Well, you could date  _ him _ .”

“Nah, after what I’ve witnessed downstairs, it would be weird.”, he admits. “Besides, I’m straight, remember?”

“Ah, right, I forgot.” At Ricardo’s baffled face he laughs.

 

-

 

When Raphael comes back to the loft later that day, he finds it to be empty. It doesn’t really surprise him, considering Simon had planned to visit his best friend, and he’s also quite thankful that he doesn’t have to see him right away. During the whole ride home, he’s kept thinking about what to say to Simon. He’s figured that  _ apologizing _ for the kiss could maybe be insulting, but he also wouldn’t know what else to say about it. He guesses he’ll have to see what  _ Simon’s _ reaction is. 

For now, he’s decided to eat some dinner and wait until the other comes home. He prepares himself a sandwich and sits down at the dining table, facing the windows to bath in one of the last few evening suns of the year. His eyes find the picture on the window sill and considers the one with Clary for a moment.

He figures it must be Clary because the way the red-haired girl and a much younger looking Simon hold on to each other while laughing into the camera, each of them holding a cone of ice cream. They look exactly the same way as you always see best childhood friends in Hollywood movies. He wonders if he’d have one like those, too, if his family hadn’t moved away from Zacatecas. But then again, he never really had friends there either because he didn’t want them to meet his father.

He looks at the next picture. Clary’s there again, wearing a dark green dress that fits to the similarly colored suit that Simon is wearing. Judging by the woman next to them, it must be at a wedding ceremony - she’s wearing a long white gown. Raphael supposes she must be Clary’s mother due to the fact she has red hair as well. They all look rather stunning, but who captures his attention most is the groom.

It’s a tall black man who’s grinning as brightly as the others, maybe even more so. His rather round face is defined by a beard and while he smiles, he also looks like he has no problem with being strict. But it’s not the reason that Raphael stares at him.

He frowns in thought, wondering where he’s seen him before. He has a vague idea but that can’t be… Simon can’t be close with Lucian Greymark. The guy’s a former supermodel and Simon’s just… well, he’s a newbie to the industry and not even that good.

No, it must be someone who just so happens to look like Lucian Graymark. 

He shakes off that insane thought and continues to eat his sandwich, only shooting glances at the photo every once in a while.

 

It takes several hours until Simon comes home. Raphael’s already getting ready for bed when he hears the door being slammed closed - something very untypical even for Simon’s overall clumsiness - and throws his shirt on to step into the hall. When he’s walked to the stairs, Simon’s still standing in the small front hall and appears to be frowning at the door. 

He looks quite worn as he stands there like this, as if he’s smaller and even thinner than he actually is, slouched in his position. Raphael steps down, wondering if he should approach him and ask if everything’s alright. 

As if he’s heard him, Simon’s head snaps around. “Oh, Rapha! Sorry about this-- I mean, you like noise, right? So it’s alright--”, he says and looks back and forth between the door and Raphael. “You didn’t sleep yet, did you? You’re wearing-- well.”

As Simon looks him up and down, Raphael shoots a look down on himself, too. He’s wearing some worn shirt, revealing more of his arms than he usually does, and a pair of boxers. Suddenly he feels quite insecure. 

Simon nods to himself and shrugs off his coat. As always, he aims to throw it over one of the chairs but misses greatly.

Raphael can’t help but snicker until he realizes that Simon’s speech is slurred, too. “Hang on, are you  _ drunk _ ?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say drunk--”, Simon frowns at him this time. “But we did drink a bottle of wine. Come to think of it, Clary’s not drunk as much because she still needed to paint--”

“How did you get home?”

“The Raphael-way,” Simon grins at him. “Subway!”

Raphael chuckles softly. He’s feared for the worst for a moment. The next second he feels awful for even  _ thinking _ Simon could be so irresponsible that he’d take his van when he’s drunk. “I think we should get you to bed.”

Simon nods and stumbles towards him. “Actually, I’d thought you’d already be sleeping. You didn’t wait up for me, did you?”, he laughs.

Raphael supposes that he  _ has _ waited for Simon, but as the other laughs, he guesses it would be stupid to tell him. Instead, he reaches for Simon’s wrist.

As soon as he touches it, however, he drops it again. He realizes how he’s hold onto them only this morning, before letting his hands reach for Simon’s hips, how their lips have felt against each other-- Instead he moves his hand up to the other’s shoulder, squeezing it. “Come on, you need sleep.”

Thankfully, Simon is not so drunk that he can’t walk on his own. It must have been apparent that this isn’t the worst state he could be in after drinking, Raphael assumes, because Clary wouldn’t have let him take the subway on his own otherwise. At least if she is a good friend. It means that he doesn’t need to hold on to Raphael and that he doesn’t need to tuck him into bed but can leave as soon as Simon starts undressing.

 

Raphael figures a hungover Simon is the perfect opportunity to say Thank You. He’s noticed that he still hasn’t really appreciated Simon letting him stay here. Preparing breakfast seems like a good idea. He’s never been hungover himself, seeing as he barely ever drinks alcohol (something that Magnus is quite bitter about), so he doesn’t really know what’s a good meal but he’s often heard that scrambled eggs do the trick.

He struggles a bit because his Mamá has only taught his how to do it with bacon fat, but melted butter seems to work as well. Soon enough the whole loft smells nicely and with all the noise he’s made while cooking, it’s no surprise Simon appears as soon as he’s put plates onto the table. 

“What are you doing?”

“Cooking,” Raphael states, opening several cupboards until he’s found some bread that isn’t all that soft and sweet. “I figured you might not be in the condition to do it.”

“Well, you can’t know because you’re always gone early… but I don’t eat here in the mornings either.”, Simon says. “How come you’re even still here?”

Raphael shrugs. “It’s a slow day today.”

Simon nods and sits down. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I didn’t know where you had any painkillers, and mine might be too strong--”

“I don’t need any. No headache there.”, Simon replies. “I wasn’t  _ really _ drunk, you know?”

“Yeah, I figured. Wasn’t sure about the pain, though.”, Raphael says and puts the pan down on the table. He sinks down across from Simon and starts piling eggs on the other’s plate. 

“I hold my alcohol pretty well, considering my body.”, Simon explains. Raphael decides he’d rather not do that. “It’s just that Clary thinks drinking cures her artist’s block-- she never drinks on her own, though.”

“I see.” Raphael starts eating then, not really sure what to reply. 

They eat in silence for a while (safe for Simon saying how good the eggs taste, receiving a smirk in reply), each of them left to their thoughts. Raphael finds himself wondering again if he should bring up their kiss. It seems like forever ago now, after only a day, and while he still feels rather awkward while thinking about it, it doesn’t seem to affect their behaviour in any way. He only avoids Simon’s eyes a bit more than he did before.

As he thinks, for example, he looks past Simon. His eyes fall on the photographs, and he blurts out, “Hey, who’s the guy on that picture?”

Simon turns and reaches for the photo in question. “That?”, he asks and points at the black man. When Raphael nods, he continues, “Well, that’s Luke -- Clary’s step-dad. He’s the guy who owns this flat. And the Jade Wolf.”, he explains, meaning the restaurant downstairs.

Raphael freezes. “Um, Luke’s not a nickname, is it?”

Simon smirks. “No, it isn’t. But I see what you’re getting at. Yeah, his stage name was Lucian Graymark.”

“ _ Chinga pinche puta! _ ”, Raphael exclaims before he can stop himself. “Are you kidding me?”

Simon looks pretty amused about that outburst. He grins. “Nah, for real. He’s keeping a low profile nowadays, so you better not go around.”

Raphael sends him a glare. Of course he knows better than to tell everyone and their mother about the fact that  _ Lucian Graymark owns a freaking restaurant _ \-- after all,  _ he’s _ just here to keep his own life private. He can imagine what Lucian must feel like. 

“You’re not one of those people who grew up with a crush on him, are you?”, Simon wants to know, still grinning. 

Raphael shakes his head, blushing terribly. He  _ hasn’t _ even ever thought twice about models as he grew up. Camille, however, has been a big fan of Lucian and kept referring to him every day. 

“I mean, I didn’t know about his past either until Magnus contacted him about tips.”

“Wait,  _ what _ ? Magnus knows him, too?”

“Apparently. They seem like they’re friends.”, Simon shrugs. “And  _ you _ seem like your whole world just changed.”

“It  _ did _ !”, Raphael claims. Did Camille know about this? She used to date Magnus, way before Raphael even got into either of their lives. But she’s quite a vicious ex. Raphael can’t imagine that she’d keep liking someone Magnus is close with. It’s already been a surprise enough that she was almost civil to  _ him _ (though, in retrospect, he realizes it might have been her being manipulative).

Simon snickers despite his death stare, and after a moment Raphael breaks it off, too. Instead, he joins the laughter. His life really is ridiculous.

 

-

 

Technically, Raphael shouldn’t even be surprised that it’s Ricardo who shows him the next article. He still deeply regrets that it must have been one of his brothers to see him and Simon kiss - but of all of them it also was the one who  _ knows _ it’s fake. So of course he won’t let it live down.

Raphael’s scanned through the local newspaper and has almost been disappointed that he didn’t find any pictures of himself in it that morning. After all, he’d only done it so the paparazzo would do a piece on it. 

Ricardo’s text message tells him that he’s looked in the wrong place. He’s attached a screenshot of a website Raphael’s never even heard of (as it turns out, it is a gossip blog of New York’s fashion world). He already feels like groaning when he sees the headline: “ _ Get some(,) boy! _ ”

The pun throws him off but he still tries his way through the article, feeling his insides turn with each word that he reads. Not only does it sound like trash-level journalism but it’s really hyped about the kiss, describing it as really “ _ passionate and full of love _ ”.

He receives another picture and closes it right on sight - there’s no need for him to see what he’s looked like while kissing Simon. Even worse than that is that  _ his little brother _ sends him this picture.

He decides not to text him back, thinking that all he’d get from that would be some more teasing. Instead, he opens the job announcements in the newspaper.

 

-

 

When Magnus calls him into his office a few days later, Raphael suspects he must give him new orders about his fake-relationship with Simon. Half of him is convinced that he should just ignore the offer and continue flipping through the search papers. He hasn’t had an actual shoot since the calendar and while Magnus insists on giving each of his models an obligatory amount of money a month, he feels quite useless like this. The other half of him hopes that meeting Magnus could fix exactly that.

What he’s forgotten about, however, is that the two of them hung out just like this quite usually. Normally without any invitation - he’d just show up in Magnus’ office, the other would drop his stuff, and they would just chill together and do nothing but talk. They haven’t done so recently because… well, because Raphael’s felt quite busy despite everything.

He may spend most of his time alone, but there’s so much on his plate that his mind never seems to shut down. When he’s not thinking about the paparazzi-issue, he’s worrying about Diego’s eating habits, about his mother being overwhelmed because she’s suddenly dealing with the house all alone-- 

Magnus seems determined to have him either forget or talk about all of this. Before Raphael’s even closed the door behind himself, he fills a mug with coffee and puts it down on the table across of him. 

Raphael smirks as he sinks down. “What did the Lightwoods do this time?”

It’s really quite relaxing to hear Magnus rant on about his boyfriend’s family - they’ve never quite taken a liking to him and while he’s determined to shut down Raphael’s suggestions for a solution (so one time he proposed sending them off to a deserted island, what about it?), he tells him about almost everything. Today he tells him nothing negative, though, but talks about how cute Alec’s youngest brother is. Apparently he and Alec have picked him up from school yesterday and spent the afternoon shopping with him.

It’s nice to hear something like this for once and while Raphael empties his first mug and then the second, he tells Magnus about having put Diego in Stan’s care. While he’d been not so sure about it at first, Stan’s declared that they’ve figured out quite a good way to deal with it. Even Diego’s messages sound moderately positive.

In the end, though, after roughly an hour, neither of them could avoid the elephant in the room. Magnus seems rather reluctant to bring it up, but when he empties his own third cup, he sighs. “And how’s things with Simon?”

Raphael swallows. “It’s… better.”, he says. “I mean, I don’t wish for a Invisibility Cloak every time he looks at me any more, so that’s progress.”

“Well, I suppose kissing does that to you.”, Magnus nods. He doesn’t even sound to make fun of him, but simply states it like the most usual thing. “I don’t think you’ll have to live with him much longer. If Camille’s paparazzo has already started selling to gossip sites, the story’ll soon be dead.”

Raphael lets out a sigh of relief. Living with Simon may have gotten better, but he’d rather be back home sooner than later. He doesn’t have problems with falling asleep anymore since Simon came up with a solution a few days ago. As he’d emerged from the big bathroom one evening, he’s found him put an old radio on the shelf next to his room’s door.

When he’d asked him about it, Simon’s explained how maybe it’ll help if they put it on at night, just so loud that Raphael would hear a faint noise. And surprisingly, it did help even though he couldn’t make out a single word. Sometimes Simon would choose an album, other times an audio book.

It’s rather sweet that he’s actually thought of a solution for his problem and again Raphael feels like he isn’t thankful enough. He wishes he could just  _ talk _ to Simon, but considering he won’t even do so to his  _ best friend _ , that’s tough luck.

And true to his thoughts, he doesn’t tell Magnus any of this but rather asks, “So, what do I hear about you knowing Lucian Graymark?”

 

-

 

He and Simon don’t really talk that much, but they  _ do _ talk. Not about important things still, but it’s almost a friendly banter when they talk. So by now, Raphael has no problem with initiating a conversation himself.

“Simon, you need a hall-stand!”, he sighs as he enters the flat a few days later. He puts his jacket over the back of one of the chairs in the dining room. “Seriously, if you don’t get one soon, I’ll buy one.”

When there’s no reply - he’d have expected either Simon arguing how there’s no need when you have chairs to pile your clothes on or him clearing off the one nail he uses to put up his jackets - Raphael steps further into the room, glancing around the corner to look into the area that could depict a living room. Simon isn’t there.

Raphael shrugs to himself. If Simon’s not chilling on the couch, he might be in his room or out. Or maybe he’s even -  _ gasp  _ \- working. He doesn’t really care except for the fact that he can maybe have an evening to himself for once.

He shuffles back into the kitchen and prepares himself a sandwich before relaxing on the couch, putting the TV on  _ whatever _ . It’s too quiet for his liking, but he manages to push away the paranoid feeling lurking in his chest at least for time being. Generally speaking, it’s gotten better - he still doesn’t like things to be completely silent, so he always turns on  _ something _ as soon as he’s in the loft. It works quite well and with the comedy show on TV, he almost manages to relax.

 

Raphael’s not sure what wakes him up, but he’s certain it wasn’t Simon whispering, “ _ Shut up, I don’t want him to wake up. _ ” - the guy’s really been sensitive enough to actually keep quiet. No, it must have been whoever he’s talking to who woke him up.

“Too late,” a female voice says, “he’s already awake.”

Raphael grimaces when he recognizes whom it belongs to, but seeing how he’s already been spotted, there’s no way to ignore them. So he turns around and blinks at them. “Simon. Isabelle. Looking good.”

“Raphael.”, Isabelle smirks. “I’d say the same but you actually look like a couch, if you know what I mean.”

Raphael lifts his hand and touches his cheek, feeling the print of the couch on it. 

Simon coughs, probably to hinder him from replying, and asks, “Are you watching  _ It’s Always Sunny _ ? Didn’t think you’d like something like that.”

Frankly, it’s not his favourite show, especially with all the screaming going on, but he finds himself enjoying quite a lot of the jokes. But he’d rather die than admit that, so he lies, “There was something else on before I fell asleep.”

Simon nods. “Well, uh, Isabelle’s here to check out some pictures. We’ll go into the lab, I think, so you can definitely stay here.”

Raphael notices Isabelle staring at him with narrowed eyes and for a moment, he returns the favour. But then he shrugs, “No, you guys can have the living room if you want. I didn’t mean to stay here for too long anyways.”

He glances at the clock. It’s not even 9pm yet, so he could probably call his mum on Skype or something. That way he can tune out having someone who hates his guts in the place he lives at.

As he rushes into his room, he can hear how Isabelle loudly, almost on purpose, laughs about something that Simon must have said. He fights the urge to glance back at them, where they undoubtedly sit together on the couch, and pushes the door closed behind him.

It’s just his luck that Isabelle would appear while he’s asleep on the couch with the worst programme on TV - the two of them probably laugh about it and knowing the magazine’s workers, everyone will have a detailed description of what he looks like after a nap tomorrow. Why would Simon even need to bring her home? He’s handed  _ him  _ the pictures without inviting him home. But actually, the explanation seems easy enough: Simon actually likes Isabelle. Apparently even enough to tell her the whole relationship is fake - why else would he bring her with him without warning Raphael?

As he thinks about it, he starts his laptop and opens Skype, calling his mother. He can already imagine that she’d be angry with him for not calling before - he’s sent short text messages to her, asking if she needs help with everything, but pretty much ignores her questions in return. He’s not proud of that behaviour, but he wouldn’t have known how to articulate the feelings sleeping in his chest. Plus, he wouldn’t want her to worry.

Her face appears way too closely on the screen when she picks up. “Raphael,  ¡ _ mijo _ ! How are you?”

Without wanting to, Raphael laughs. “Mamá, you need to hold the phone farther away.” Once she’s done it and he can’t look up her nose anymore, he responds, “I’m fine, as I’ve told you.”

“Yeah, hm. Haven’t wasted any words on me,  _ no _ ?”, she says, sounding a bit snappy. “So, are you really fine?”

“Would I lie to you?” He really didn’t. He’s fine - he’s not hurting, he has no big problems, so he’d really say that he’s quite okay. “Well, I mean, it’s annoying that I’m here, of course.”

“Is… the boy, what is his name, is he nice?”

He smiles softly. “Yeah, Simon’s pretty good as a flatmate. And his flat! It must be as big as our house.”

“Really? A  _ flat _ ?”

Raphael nods vehemently. And as he describes the different rooms of Simon’s apartment and all the things that he owns, he almost feels like an excited child. He supposes it must be his mother’s influence, because technically he isn’t even that much into all the movie memorabilia that the photographer owns.

 

-

 

“So, Simon has turned me down.”, Maia announces when he steps up to her at their next joined shoot. It’s the first one Raphael has since the calendar and while he doesn’t get to be in the same picture as his friend, but rather with a stranger, he’s glad she’s there at least. Looking at her now, she seems rather pissed about it. “Said he ‘kind of had his eyes set on someone else’.”

“Shit, really?”, Raphael says. Thinking about it, it explains the amount of time that Isabelle has spent at their flat recently. He’s stopped believing that she  _ still _ has to go to her pictures the second time that she showed up and it’s been bothering him that they’d  _ lie _ to him. 

“Yeah,” Maia nods. “He hasn’t said anything more about it, though. Just stumbled over his words.”

Raphael laughs softly. “Yeah, he’d do that.”

Maia looks at him for a moment, her eyes fixed on his until he finally breaks away. He knows that he’s changed his behaviour concerning Simon somewhat since they live together, but seeing her reaction to it makes it painfully obvious. 

She sighs shortly after. “I swear, soon enough I’ll go and ask out Meliorn.”

Raphael raises an eyebrow. “Really? The guy’s way too into his Queen.” It’s true even though a real reaction of Meliorn’s is a rare event. As far as he can tell, the other has never done so much as glance at another person.

“Well?”, Maia pouts. “At least he knows it.”

She’s called onto the set shortly after, leaving Raphael behind to stare at her in confusion. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she’s pissed at  _ him _ . 

 

-

 

For some reason, Raphael and Simon have never thought of exchanging phone numbers. It doesn’t seem necessary when the other is in the next room. It’s become a custom for them to just knock at the other’s door when thes want something.

Today, Simon stays true to the routine, but instead of waiting for any signal that he’s allowed to come in, he opens the door right after knocking. Raphael’s in the middle of changing when the door is opened, his shirt too far for him to reach, so he just puts on his bathrobe.

“Hey, Raph, I--”, Simon says as he comes in, but stops when he sees Raphael. “Did you, uh, take a shower? I didn't hear the water so that's--”

“What did you want?”, Raphael asks to distract him. He can just picture how Simon would respond if he were to see the scars on his chest. With what Raphael knows about him, an abusive father is not something he would understand - he'd be confused and shocked and tell him how nobody deserves something like that, things Raphael knows deep down but sometimes can't believe. Other than his family it's only Magnus who knows about the scarred belt marks, because he's figured it out by himself since he comes from a similar background, but if he had to choose anyone else to gape at his chest in shock, he'd even choose Camille over the innocence of Simon.

“Uh, right.”, Simon starts and looks down. Raphael notices he's holding a letter in his hand. “They're, um, awarding some photographers at the end of the week and I was-- I'm nominated, actually.”

“You are? For which shoot?”

“The-- uh, the calendar.”, he explains, blushing a little. “I was wondering if you wanted to… go there with me.”

Raphael looks at him. His first thought is that Simon should rather go with Isabelle - after all, she's been in the shoot, too, and he's sure her photos were better than his. Plus, if they're dating, it's only fitting. Then again, though,  _ officially _ it's him and Raphael who are dating. “Yeah, why not? The press will love it.”

“The press… oh, yeah. That's what I was thinking about!”, Simon agrees. “Magnus will be there as well, it's mostly his nomination, of course. It's his calendar and his ideas, so…”

“You shot the photos, Simon,” Raphael reminds him with a small smile. He's heard from other models that his method has worked with them and he's nominated for an award, so it can't have been all that bad.

“Right.”, Simon says as if he's only just remembered. “Well, um, I only own one suit and it's the one I wore for my Bar Mitzvah so Magnus said I could borrow one from the set outfits-- We should, uh, coordinate our colours, right?”

“I can help you pick one out.”, Raphael suggests. “Better do it tomorrow, though, in case it needs adjustments.”

“Good idea.”, Simon nods. “I'll, um, go watch a movie now. Feel free to join if you want.”

“Sci-Fi?”

“Nah, fantasy. Lord of the Rings, actually.”

Raphael smiles. “Count me in.”

 

-

 

On Friday morning, Raphael finds himself on the floor of the small entrance hall of Simon’s loft. It's another idea he's had to express his gratitude without saying the words to the other.

The need to do so has come up after they've gone to the magazine's building. Raphael doubts that either of them had remembered beforehand, but when they'd arrived Simon's taken his hand as if it was the most usual thing. In fact, they must have looked quite normal as they walked to the front, safe for Raphael pretty much  _ dragging _ him towards the entrance - while he must admit there are worse things than holding Simon's hand, he wanted to get through with it as soon as possible. If they'd stopped walking at any time, he feared, Simon would have remembered the kiss and then things would've gone downhill. But he either hasn’t remembered or he hasn’t played up to his reactions about that, so Raphael’s quite thankful.

To his surprise, Simon - who usually wears shirts with awful puns on them - didn't pick out the worst suit, either. The one he’d gone for was of a metallic blue that almost seems to glitter in the light, although the pants are just a normal dark blue that almost seems black. As he’d tried it on, it’s been a bit too broad, but the colour’s looked good to his skin, seeing as he’s a bit paler than Raphael.

“Uh, what are you doing?”, Simon’s voice suddenly asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Raphael turns and sees that he’s standing in front of the kitchen counter, rubbing his eye. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” He’d even tightened the screws by hand rather than use an electric drill so that Simon could sleep in, but maybe moving the boards has been too loud--

“No, it’s fine, I’ve woken up by myself.”, Simon waves him off, “But then I noticed you doing this. What is this, exactly?”

“This’ll be a hall-stand.”, Raphael tells him. “For putting up your jackets. Seriously, every good household has one of those.”

In response, Simon mutters something to himself and Raphael can’t help but grin at that. Of course the other would think his flat is decent enough - it is, of course, but it’s lacking quite a lot of elementary things. Only last week Raphael’s had to buy some pot holders. 

“Do you need any help?”

Raphael looks at him for a moment. Actually, he’d intended to build this himself. Part of the reason may be pride, the other wanting to thank Simon for letting him stay in  _ some _ way. But now that he offers, Raphael could actually use his help. He’d thought of using a chair to reach the top screws (because, honestly, he fears Simon doesn’t even own a ladder) but the other might just reach it without any problems.

So he reaches for the electric drill and holds it up for him. “You can do the top of this thing and I’ll do those down there.”, he says, pointing down.

Simon smirks as he steps closer. “Too small, huh?” The way Raphael glares at him must fulfill its purpose because the grin falls and he asks, “When did you even get this?”

“This morning.”, Raphael replies and kneels down. “I stumbled over one of your jackets on my way to the coffee machine and thought it’s time for some order in your life.”

“I’ll definitely pay you back, this must’ve cost--”

“Leave it, Simon. You didn’t even want it.”, Raphael says. When he accidentally nudges the other’s leg with his elbow, he says, “Oh, sorry. Anyway, it’s a present. Don’t worry about the costs.”

“Well, thank you.”, Simon says and then he finally starts working.

“No problem. But promise me that you’ll actually use it.”

“I’m sure you’ll remind me of it.”

 

You could almost say that they spent their day like any other - that is, if they were normal flatmates. Usually each of them goes his own way, except for the few minutes in the morning and maybe something to watch in the evening. Today, however, it seemed like they’ve meant to share every second together, as if they were trying to get used to being close to each other for the evening. 

Raphael can’t say that it’s been a conscious decision of his to spent the whole day in the living room until it was time to leave, but it’s a fact that he’s done so. He doesn’t know what Simon usually does, of course, since he himself is either at work or in his room, but the way the other has chilled on the couch and zapped through the TV almost seemed like a behaviour fitting to any other Friday.

Of course, the later it got, the more fidgety Simon became. Raphael knows he can’t - and shouldn’t - blame him, but with the time it got quite annoying. Thus he ordered him to put on his suit pretty early already, thinking it would be the best if they got out sooner than later.

That had been half an hour ago. They’re standing in the entrance hall of  _ Magical Bane _ now, waiting for Magnus who’d insisted they drove with him so that nobody could be appalled at the sight of Simon’s van. 

Raphael guesses that even though they haven’t held hands on their way inside, the paparazzo who might have shot a picture of them must be quite glad. Raphael had chosen his suit to match Simon’s somewhat while still underlining their differences. He doubts that it could’ve been that visible in the already scarce light, but his blood red suit has the same shiny effect as Simon’s - it simply looks like they’re polar opposites.

He groans when he sees Simon fumble with his tie. He’d told him not to do that at home in fear he might manage to strangle himself while driving, but as it appears, the guy wouldn’t even have managed to fix it himself. 

“Come here,” he orders and waves him closer.

Simon looks up at him in surprise and starts blushing faintly but he comes closer, bowing his head a little so Raphael can reach his neck easily. He needs a few tries since he’s never done it for someone else before (Ricardo’s managed it quite easily even when he was younger, Diego is strictly against ties and Franco isn’t at the age to wear a suit yet - he would ruin it before he even left the house) but he manages after opening the knot three times.

“See, there you go,” he smiles and folds the collar down. 

Simon keeps his head down until he’s finished and only looks up when he steps away. “Thanks. Last time I wore one, my mum did it for me, you know?”

“Yeah, I can imagine.”, Raphael says dryly, earning a punch against his arm just as Magnus emerges from the elevator. He’s wearing a dark vest that’s decorated with actual sequins, making the shiny appearance of their suits seem like nothing.

“Thank God the two of you look presentable.”, he says with an approving nod at each of them. “Did good on him, Rapha.”

“Believe it or not, he chose the suit himself.”, Raphael explains. “Had Catarina fix it up a bit but it’s all him.”

Magnus raises an eyebrow with another look on Simon. Then he whistles through his teeth. “Simon, good looks may rub off on you after all.”

Raphael halfway expects Simon to protest, seeing how he’s not even remotely ugly, but instead he just blushes some more and nods. It might just be that he’s with people who earn money with their looks but maybe he really doesn’t know - either way, it’s almost sad that he’d just accept it like that.

“I told Isabelle to be there at half.”, Magnus says with a look at his watch. “We should leave soon.”

Raphael gapes at him. “Isabelle? What’s Isabelle doing there?” She’s got quite an encapturing nature and since both of the others like her, he’s quite sure he’ll be left as fifth wheel.

“She’s my date. Alec didn’t seem like a fan of going to a gala tonight and she’s actually been  _ in _ the shoot, so it seemed fitting.”

“Hm.”, Raphael makes. Thankfully he doesn’t have to keep himself from pouting - Simon does that by wrapping a hand around his wrist. 

“Right,” Magnus says with a look at their hands. “Got a part to play, don’t we? Okay, let’s get going.”

Their hands finally intertwined, they step out behind him and walk to the black muscle car that Magnus drives. When he’d first presented it to him, Raphael had checked if the varnish had actually been real. Black seems like a way too normal colour for him, but as it seems his eccentricism doesn’t reach his vehicles.

It’s quite small inside of the car and since they have to play a couple even while getting inside, Raphael and Simon sit almost on top of each other in the back row. But since it’s almost November, Raphael doesn’t mind that strike of misfortune because it means he gets to profit of Simon’s body heat.

“You’re nervous, huh?”, Raphael wants to know as Magnus starts the engine. Simon’s been uncharacteristically quiet since they left his flat, almost as if he were scared to open his mouth for more than a few seconds.

Simon nods.

“Well, you don’t have to be.”, Raphael tells him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “If you win, that’s great. If you don’t, nobody will hate you. Right, Magnus?”

“It  _ would _ be great to win against Camille--”

“Magnus.”

“Yeah. No, don’t worry, Simon.”, Magnus looks at him through the rear mirror. “It’s already a great accomplishment you were nominated so soon.”

“Who is this Camille even?”, Simon wants to know. Raphael’s sure he just wants to change the topic but he’ll let him have that. “She sounds like a stereotypical villain in a High School movie.”

“Sounds about right. She’s the boss of the  _ DuMort _ .”, Magnus explains.

“Oh, so that’s why she sends photographers after Raph? Because she wants to annoy one of your models to death?”

“One reason probably.”, Raphael nods. “She’s probably also still mad that I switched teams.”

“Wait-- Did you  _ work for her _ ?”, Simon asks. “Woah, shit.”

“I think she also might be after me, too.”, Magnus says happily. “You know, because I dumped her.”

“ _ You dated her _ ?”

“Yes. So, Camille might hate your guts now because you work for me and you’re supposedly dating Raphael.”, Magnus explains. “I mean, it might be worse if you dated me, of course…”

“Yeah, we know that you’re the great mortal enemy of Camille Belcourt.” Raphael rolls his eyes softly. He notices that Simon shoots him a fearful look and adds, “Don’t worry, if she’s going to flip out on anyone tonight, it’d be either me or Magnus.”

“Well, that helps me a great deal.”, Simon says with a sarcastic tilt in his voice. At the same time, Raphael notices how his expression gets more relaxed.

The ride to the hall is relatively short, so there’s no need to keep the conversation going until they’re there. It takes a few minutes that they spent in silence each until Magnus guides the car onto a parking spot. As they get out, Isabelle emerges out of nothing, wearing a dark dress that - even in the darkness - mirrors the glamour of Magnus’ outfit.

“Ah, Isabelle,” he smiles, “I see you’ve chosen not to wear one of my creations.”

Isabelle nods happily. “It’s custom made.”

“With what she means that she’s made it herself.”, Simon adds with a glance down at her. He looks weirdly proud as he accepts her hug.

Once they’ve parted, Raphael reaches out for Simon’s hand to link it to his. If they want to portray a couple he probably shouldn’t look too hung up on another girl. Isabelle follows the movement and looks at him as if she sees him for the first time. “Evening, Isabelle.”

“Santiago,” she nods, “Should’ve figured you were coming along.”

Raphael opens his mouth to reply that he has as much reason to be here as she does, maybe even more, but before a single word leaves his mouth Magnus says, “Let’s go then, shall we? Always better to be early.”

Once they’re inside and seated at their table, Raphael looks around. There’s small tables scattered around the saloon, each of them holding about a handful of people - he guesses that every table belongs to a different magazine. He’s surprised about how many people are here to represent their work but then again, this is for all kinds of zines and not just for fashionistas. The decoration and lightning, however, seems to be aiming for those more than anything, seeing how it’s held in a soft purple. 

He recognizes a few people that he’s seen converse with Magnus before - especially reporters who’d wanted interviews about all kinds of different things - and averts his eyes so that they wouldn’t come seek him. The last thing he could use right now was someone wanting to do a piece on his and Simon’s relationship. Maybe, he figures, the two of them should have agreed on a story beforehand rather than just dive into the whole thing as if it were normal either of them would fall for the other.

Magnus leans over to him, smirking somewhat. “Guess what? Camille isn’t here.”

Raphael looks up. He would have seen her before, of course, but he lets his eyes wander over the crowd again. When he still doesn’t see her anywhere, he can’t help but grin as well. If Camille doesn’t show up, it can only mean that she hasn’t been nominated for anything - remarkable when you think about the number of subsidiaries the  _ DuMort  _ has. It gives him such a feeling of satisfaction that he doesn’t even mind Isabelle and Simon bowing their heads together to whisper about something.

Since they still have some time to go, Raphael takes two glasses of non-alcoholic drinks off the next waiter’s tray. He puts one in front of Simon, guessing he’ll notice soon enough, and nurses his own as he watches the people who are still entering. There’s still no sight of Camille.

Everyone around them is chatting happily, so even if Raphael had meant to listen in to Simon and Isabelle’s conversation, he wouldn’t have been able to. Judging by Simon’s body language, though, they almost seem like they’re having an argument in hushed voices. It even carries on until Imogen Herondale, the night’s presenter, speaks up and asks for everyone’s attention.

“I thank you all for joining us here on this evening.”, she begins, her voice soaking up every conversation and making everyone rush to their places. “The works we have been presented with this year have been a number so overwhelming and stunning that we have feared we wouldn’t fit all of the nominees into one place. Of course, there are people who have been nominated several time-- Like, Camille Belcourt, whom I just see entering!”

At her words, seemingly everyone turns to the entrance, wanting to score a glance at her. Raphael turns, too, and rolls his eyes at the embarrassed look she portrays. With a glance at Magnus, who grimaces, he can tell they’re thinking the same thing: Camille has wanted a special scene and has probably waited behind the corner until it was the perfect time to enter. Granted, she does earn a row of mumbling - and then applause, too.

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t want to cross her path at night.”, Simon mumbles at him. Raphael nods in understanding. Camille’s put on her best dark makeup and a low-cut black dress that gives her the flair of a vampire in combination with the dark - darker than Raphael’s suit - red. “And you worked for her?”

“I wouldn’t make  _ that _ up.”, he mutters back. 

They turn around as Imogen continues with her speech, but Raphael doesn’t listen to a single word. Instead, his eyes seem to find Camille every few seconds. He feels a flair of anger in his chest upon her appearance, and even more so when he notices that  _ she _ doesn’t even try to find  _ him _ . He would have expected her to send smirks at him, knowing how her paparazzo has affected his life, but she does no such thing. 

He focusses his attention to the front again every time that Simon makes a comment (mostly about how boring it is, which Raphael can only agree with), watching people accept their awards and starting their speeches. But once they got so far, the stage loses his focus again.

When Simon reaches for his hand, though, and clasps it tightly, he looks at him first before eyeing Imogen. She’s starting to elaborate on the category Simon’s been nominated for and when the screen behind her shows some of the pictures - and thankfully none of Raphael - he must admit that other models, like Maia in particular, have done better than him when it comes to Simon’s lack of orders. 

It feels like it takes forever until she’s finished talking about the different nominees (she’s highlighted Simon’s status as a newbie and how young he is, something that must have embarrassed Simon because he buries his face against Raphael’s shoulder even though there’s no light focussed on him) and then even longer until she finally says who’s won.

“And the winner is…”

Raphael looks at Simon, rubbing his thumb softly over the back of his hand. Simon’s looking at the front with so much anxiety and fear in his eyes that Raphael almost says something,  _ anything _ , to him to calm him down. He’s seen Simon nervous before but then it’s always with a smile on his face, not this expression like he’s about to collapse. It’s not something he wants to ever see on his face again.

“ _ Edom _ ! Congratulations to Lilith and her photographer Julian Blackthorn.”

Simon’s face falls at that, wearing a look of both relief and disappointment. He closes his eyes shortly and takes a deep breath, only opening them again when Raphael’s moved an arm around him and pulled him into something that resembles a hug. 

“Don’t worry, Simon.”, Magnus says over the applause. “You brought  _ Magical Bane _ a nomination in that category for the first time since it’s been founded, that’s already magnificent.”

Isabelle nods. “Yeah, and losing against Julian is nothing to be ashamed off. The guy’s been, like, created to do photoshoots.”

Raphael doesn’t like it, but he has to agree with Isabelle. He’s only seen a few of Blackthorn’s photos, but they’re always breathtaking. He particularly likes to get himself into dangerous positions, as it seems, to get the best possible results. And he’s never hurt himself, as if he had supernatural powers keeping him safe.

Simon seems only a little happier with those affirmations, but he actually looks up at the stage again as the blond photographer accepts his award. He also sits up a little straighter, still close to Raphael but doesn’t lean on him any more. For the rest of the gala he keeps quiet but Raphael can tell that he’s not wallowing in as much self-pity as he’d have expected.

There’s not too many categories coming after theirs and after the nervousness about Simon’s nomination subsided, it seemed like the time passed by like nothing. Before Raphael’s noticed, the last award was handed over (for best covershoot - Camille’s won with a picture of herself) and the audience began to talk again. Some people get up from their seats, eager to get to the bar now that the after-party has begun and a few very motivated people get themselves on the dancefloor to sway to the soft music.

This time it’s Magnus who gets a hold of a waiter and orders fancy cocktails. They look as if they’ve been filled with blue LED-lights more than anything to drink but after Magnus has explained what’s in it (everything non-alcoholic with regards to the fact that both he and Simon have cars to drive and that Raphael’s not even 21 yet), Raphael takes a sip and decides that it is delicious. 

Simon seems happier again, too, now that everyone is talking and enjoying themselves and he starts conversation with everyone who even does so much as walk past their table. After a while, though, he leans against Raphael’s ear, “Raph, we gotta dance.”

In return, Raphael raises an eyebrow. “What? No, we don’t.”

Simon gives him what must be his version of a bitch-look. “I’ve just lost at an award show but I don’t even care, so I’m gonna dance with my boyfriend and he’ll enjoy it.”, he decides. Something in the way he says it tells Raphael that he doesn’t want to convince the press of that but rather himself.

So he nods. “Okay.”

They get up from their seats, hands joined, and walk towards the dancefloor. The music currently playing is rather slow and Raphael’s insides twist at that realization. He and Simon will have to dance really close together at that.

Simon doesn’t seem to have any objections about it, though, seeing how he pulls Raphael into a very standard dancing position and begins swaying them to the right and to the left. Apparently he can’t really dance, but it’s fine enough like this.

“You know, I mean, I didn’t expect me to win.”, Simon starts after a few moments. “But when we were here I had kinda hoped--”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. Like we’ve said, it doesn’t matter. You did well enough.”

“But you don’t actually think so, do you?”, Simon asks. He sounds actually curious. “I know that you haven’t been happy with your pictures.”

Raphael looks at him. “True, but that’s mean my fault. I guess I don’t do well without any help.”, he says then. He probably should have realized it sooner, that with everyone speaking so highly of Simon’s skills, it can’t be  _ him _ who’s fucked up.

“I think you do just fine.”

“I meant at work.”

“Yeah, me too.”, Simon smiles. “Maybe we just don’t do well together.”

“I think we do just fine.”, Raphael insists, repeating Simon's words. “Just look at us dancing.”

Simon laughs. “This time  _ I  _ meant at work.”

“Naturally,” Raphael agrees with a chuckle. 

As the music around them changes to something more upbeat and Simon wiggles them back and forth even faster, Raphael can’t help but let out barking laughters. He even lets Simon twirl him under his arm and starts to just enjoy the evening. Maybe Simon’s wrong, maybe they are a good team. Not at work, no, but behind the scenes. After all, they manage living together  _ and _ fool the press.

 

After another fast song, Simon decides that they need some more drinks. Raphael agrees wholeheartedly, so he suggests to wait at their table as Simon goes and gets some more of those cocktails. When he lets his eyes wander over the crowd, though, to see whether Magnus and Isabelle would be there, too, he finds Camille again and before he knows it, he’s walking up to her.

She’s involved in a conversation with a young black woman, faking a laughter at something she must have said. She’s ever-observing, though, so she quickly lets her drop when she notices him approaching. “Raphael!”, she purrs as if she were actually happy to see him.

“Camille,” he nods. “Congratulations.” In fact, she’s won three of her five nominations and has each of the awards standing on the table in front of herself.

“Thank you, dear. Of course, I would have liked it better if that one went to one of us two rather than Blackthorn.”

“It wouldn’t have gone to me anyways. It’s been Simon’s nomination.”, he says coldly.

“Simon.”, she repeats. “That’s the boyfriend, then? You seem eager to defend him, so I’m just guessing. I must say, I’ve been quite surprised to read you went for a photographer. I thought you’d rather go up to the top or at least keep silent about it if you weren’t.”

Raphael bits down a scowl. He’s never been a fan of Camille projecting her own hunger for power onto him. Instead, he replies, “It  _ would _ have been kept silent if it weren’t for you.”

“For me?” She sits up a bit. “What, have you meant to appall me so much that I’d come and rescue you from Magnus’ third-class magazine?”

Raphael snorts. “I meant your  _ paparazzo _ .”

“My paparazzo?”, she repeats. For a moment she stays quiet, as if she was wondering if she’d really sent someone after him. Then she starts laughing. “You think I would have someone make pictures of you? My dear, if - and only  _ if _ \- I were still hung up on you leaving me, don’t you think I’d have more classy methods?”

Raphael glares at her and when she doesn’t look away, but keeps glaring back with her lips pressed into a thin line, he realizes she must say the truth. He knows that she has been furious with him when he’d first left, but she really must have let it go after realizing he didn’t get a better position out of it. Camille’s fury would have gone deeper than just telling a photographer where he lives, as he realizes now. 

It wasn’t her.

A second later, as it seems, he’s pulling Simon, who’s been standing in front of their table, glancing around to search for him, down into his seat and leans up close to him. “It wasn’t her.”

“Who wasn’t what?”

“The paparazzo. It wasn’t Camille.”, Raphael explains, breathlessly. “It wasn’t her. We’d just assumed it, but come to think of it--”

“What? Have you been talking to her? If she’s really so bad, she’s probably lied to you.”

“She  _ is _ so bad.”, Raphael confirms. “And that’s why it hasn’t been her.”

Simon blinks at him. “I’m confused.”

“I’ll explain it outside.”, Raphael decides and gets up. “Come on, let’s walk to your van. I’ll text Magnus that we’ve already gone.”

Simon doesn’t even have the chance to argue with him, Raphael’s so eager to get out of that place that he pulls him with him, nodding at a few people here and there. Outside, he’s pretty much forgotten that the paparazzo, despite not being Camille’s, still exists, but thankfully Simon thinks of slipping their hands together again. It’s for the better, actually, since it got even colder and neither of them has brought a coat to wear over their suits.

On the way to  _ Magical Bane _ , Raphael explains how a paparazzo certainly wouldn’t have been Camille’s style. He should have realized it sooner, that Camille would’ve sent an actual stalker after him, spread a rumour that would have actually endangered his career or even have threatened his family rather than make his name appear in the newspaper regularly. No, even if she had used a paparazzo, the articles that would’ve come out of it would have been completely different. They’d have been dragging him rather than sound - admittedly - almost nice.

“So you’re sure it wasn’t her?”, Simon wants to know. “Then where did that paparazzo come from?”

“I don’t know,” Raphael says as he walks around the van to get inside. “But it really wasn’t her, I’m sure.”

Once inside, he pulls out his phone to text Magnus, still in thought. If it wasn’t Camille, who would have sent the paparazzo to his house? Maybe it’s been Isabelle - she’s the sister of Magnus’ boyfriend and pretty close to him. Getting into his office and finding out Raphael’s address wouldn’t have been so difficult. 

Simon starts the engine and drive off the parking spot, maneuvering them onto the street.

He snaps out of his thoughts when he actually looks on his phone, though. “ _ Chinga _ ,” he mutters. There's almost ten missed calls, as if his brothers had taken turns with phoning him, and the lack of his mother’s number makes his heart stop. Did anything happen to her? While he was off enjoying expensive champagne?

“What happened--?”, Simon asks but stops when Raphael lifts hand to shut him up. Instead, his eyes find the road again.

Raphael dials Diego’s number, putting the phone up to his ear before the first ring. The boy hates phone calls more than anything else, so if even  _ he _ calls it must be something serious.

It takes way too long until someone picks up and before he can even say anything, he hears some muttering going on at the end of the line.

“Diego?”, he asks, “Are you alright?”

“He’s fine, don’t worry.” It's Ricardo who speaks, much to Raphael's surprise. “Seriously,  _ don’t _ worry.”

“You guys called me. About a hundred times. What is--”, he swallows. “ _ ¿ _ _ Mamá está bien, sí? _ ”

“She is, don't worry. It's just-- well, this is kinda stupid. I hope Simon doesn't mind people looking through his comics? Luke said they should just stay away from those in plastic--”

“Wait,  _ what _ ?”

“It's not only a stupid story, but also a long one. Almost funny even,” Ricardo says nervously. “You, um, you should probably come to Simo-- You should come home.”

“If you guys broke anything, I'll have you do internships at the printer of  _ Magical Bane _ .”, Raphael says sternly. Then he hangs up.

Simon stays silent for a moment. Then, hesitantly, he says, “Okay, so did your brothers break into the magazine or--”

“Your place.”

“Hm,” he thinks about it. “Alright.”

Raphael stares at him. Simon really needs to learn something about letting strangers into his home. It's almost surprising that the guy's door even has a lock. Instead of replying, though, Raphael buries himself in thoughts. Ricardo may have said that everything is alright, but he could have lied. He probably didn't want to tell him the news over phone. “Can you speed up a bit?”

Simon glances at him shortly but follows suit. Raphael lets out a sigh of relief at that - with how responsible a driver Simon is, he'd thought he'd get a lecture.

He's already halfway up the stairs when he hears the sound of the van’s doors slamming shut. He'd not even thought of closing his. 

“Raph, what is going on?”, Simon calls up only to be ignored as Raphael fumbles for his keys. A few seconds later he's jogged up the stairs, standing right behind Raphael. 

He gets no reply because the door finally opens and as soon as Raphael steps in, he calls for his brothers. He doesn't wait for a reply but struts into the main room, seeing light in the area with the couches.

Ricardo and Diego are standing on the carpet, turned towards the door, and look as if they're two soldiers waiting for an order. They're standing side by side, backs straight and jaws clenched, waiting for him to scream at them.

“What are you doing here?!”, Raphael barks as soon as he sees them, his heart still pounding in fear. “How did you get in here?! Is Franco here, too? _ ¿Dónde está? _ ”

“He's, um, in another room with Luke.”, Diego says when Ricardo stays silent. “They wanted to get something to draw.”

“Oh, Luke let you in?”, comes Simon's voice from behind Raphael. “Makes sense, he's got a key, after all…”

As if they got out of a stupor at that, both Ricardo and Diego lift their gazes from Raphael to stare at Simon. While Diego's expression shows scepticism more than anything, Ricardo must remember the last (and only time) he's seen him because he wears a smirk.

“Yeah, must have taken pity on us.”, he shrugs. “We've been chilling downstairs the whole day and they wanted to close eventually, so--”

“You've been hanging around the whole day? Did you eat anything?”, Raphael wants to know.

This time it’s a low voice that speaks up, coming from up on the rostrum. “Had a spring roll each, safe for the tall one.” Raphael feels a shudder when Lucian Graymark steps into sight. “Sorry, I’m not good with names. Remember that week I kept thinking Jace was called Sebastian, Si?”

Simon laughs, “Yeah, that was funny.”

Before they could revel in memory even more, someone runs down the stairs, throwing themself at Raphael’s legs. He doesn’t need to look down to recognize Franco. “Ra! There you are! We’ve been waiting for you for _ ever _ .”

“So I’ve been told. Why are you guys even here?”

“They wouldn’t tell. Said it was family business,” Lucian says, stepping down as well. He extends a hand then, “I’m Luke, by the way.”

Raphael stares at his hand, then at him. “I know who you are.”, he blurts out.

At Lucian’s frown Simon explains. “He works for Magnus.”

“Ah,” Lucian makes and smiles. “Well, it’s good to see the guy can get some models on his own, too. I’ve recommended half the people to him, I think.” When Raphael doesn’t say anything but just gapes at him - so Magnus has admitted to knowing Lucian Graymark, but this is news -, he looks at Simon, “I think we should get those guys something real to eat. On the house, of course.”, he adds with a wink.

“Uh, why would I have to-- Oh! Okay, alright. Let’s go downstairs.”, Simon agrees. If he weren’t still so overwhelmed by everything, Raphael would have laughed at his lack of thinking along.

Once the two of them have left and closed the door, Raphael tells his brothers to sit down. Then he pulls one of the kitchen chairs closer to sit across from them all. “Mamá really is alright?”

“I told you!”, Ricardo says. 

“Yeah, what kind of assholes do you think we are? That we’d let her do everything once you’re not there?”, Diego adds, sounding somewhat irritated. He ignores Franco’s gasp at the swear word and continues, “Hell, even when you’re there we help in the household, so don’t be like that, alright? Mamá’s currently enjoying her evening.”

“So she’s not worried where you are?”

“No, I told her I’d take those two here out for a fun day,” Ricardo says. “Don’t look at me like that! They would have come anyway! Franco’s already looked through all of your drawers when I found him.”

“The open ones!”, Franco protests, as if to show that he’s done nothing wrong. Raphael’s happier about that addition than he’d like to admit. 

“Why were you going through my things?”

“Well, I wanted to see where you live now. Because you never show up at home any more!”, Franco cries. “You don’t even come to church any more just because you have a stupid boyfriend!”

“ _ Boyfriend _ ,” Diego repeats with a snort. He’s leaned back, his arms crossed. “Except not, is he?”

All of their eyes fall onto him.

“What are you talking about, man?”, Ricardo asks, nudging his arm again Diego’s.

The other glares at him. “ _ Please _ , you know about it. You’ve told him to come to  _ Simon’s _ home before correcting yourself.”

“Well, but only because I’m not used to him living here yet.”, Ricardo says. “‘Home’ in connection with Raphael still means  _ our _ home to me, you know?”

Diego doesn’t look satisfied with an explanation. He stares at Raphael instead. Even in the bad lightning his eyes look almost hazel. “Why don’t you guys share a room then? And why are no things of yours lying around? It looks like you’re ready to go home again any second.”

Raphael feels the corner of his mouth twitch while they look at each other. “ _ Chinga _ , when did you become so clever?”

“Not difficult to be more intelligent than you, apparently.”

Raphael presses his lips together. 

“Wait,” Franco speaks up, “so you’re not dating Simon? Then why are you living here?”

Raphael sighs. He hopes that Lucian thinks of staying downstairs a bit longer than maybe necessary just so they can properly talk in peace. He explains how they’d thought Camille had sent a paparazzo after him - Ricardo’s been surprised to learn that apparently it wasn’t her - and that it’s been the best idea to distract them from his family.

“But that’s stupid.”, Franco decides. “So you don’t want to ever come home again?”

“Of course not,” Raphael says firmly. “Once they get bored, I’ll get back.”

“Raphael, that really  _ is _ stupid.”, Diego agrees. “Did it occur to you that  _ maybe _ you are, I don’t know, a  _ model _ ? You’re bound to have paparazzi running after you! It part of your job, basically! Especially once you think clearly and stop selling yourself short just so  _ we’re safe _ and all that bullshit you’re getting at here.”

Ricardo whistles through his teeth. “Hey, Ra, do you ever just wish to be back at being a little kid just so you can think straight? How the fuck didn’t we see this?”

“What are you guys talking about?”

Diego groans. “You don’t have to keep an eye on us all the time. Even Franco knows when to kick someone in the shins if they creep on him.”

Franco nods eagerly. “I’m not allowed to do it during a match any more because it’s too hard.”

“See? So if we notice a paparazzo, we’ll tell him to leave us alone. And if we don’t,” he sighs, “Then we don’t. Hell, as if it were such a shame if any of us got a picture in the newspaper.” He grins.

“I don’t want your privacy to be disrespected--”

Ricardo cuts him off. “Ra, I’ve told you this countless times already, but apparently it won’t get into your thick skull: You are not our parent. Not everything you do has to be about either of us. I’m an adult, even. So when we say we wouldn’t mind being stalked as long as you don’t have to stay somewhere you don’t want to be, you should accept it.”

Both Diego and Franco nod along with serious expressions.

“I’m sure Mamá would say the same,” Ricardo adds. He knows exactly that that’s all it needed any more.

Technically, he realizes now, they’re right. He’s shut himself out of everything he usually enjoys, just to make sure they’d be okay, not even asking  _ if _ they were  _ not _ okay. What has he planned to do the whole time? Stay inside, away from home, forever?

“I’ll have to talk to her about it.”, he says but can’t help but smile when his brothers cheer. Then he looks at them in all seriousness, “That doesn’t excuse the fact you kept bothering strangers the whole day.”

“Ric said this was the address you gave Mamá and we figured the guys downstairs must know you. But nobody said they did!”, Franco tells him. “Luke only got it when we said you live with a Simon.”

“Which he didn’t know about,” Diego says. “He was quite confused to find your stuff in that room. Speaking of - dude, this flat is  _ awesome _ . Did you see the guitars?”

“Simon probably won’t mind if you played them. Once he’s here,” Raphael adds, thinking of Simon’s comics. “Franco, do you want to go downstairs and look where they are?”

“Sure!”, Franco says and happily and jumps up from the couch.

Once he’s gone, Diego keeps looking back and forth between the other two, just to break into a laughter then. It’s so honest that even though he doesn’t know what it’s about, Raphael chuckles along. After what feels like minutes, Diego says, “Okay, so I’m guessing there’s been 5 people involved in this plan - adults, as you’ve insisted, Ric -  _ and none of you thought there was an easier solution _ ?”

“In my defense, I was tired when he told me. And afterwards I didn’t think much about it, it was too funny.”, Ricardo says, smirking at Raphael, who in return moves to punch him in the arm.

“I wasn’t  _ allowed _ to even think about it. Magnus and Ragnor wouldn’t listen to me.”, he pouts. 

“Well, at least living here can’t have been all that bad. So much space! And there’s a restaurant just downstairs!”, Diego says. He hasn’t been this excited in months, probably. Maybe he really should hold on to being a kid - it seems like the easiest way through life.

 

-

 

Thankfully, Lucian must have decided to go home rather than spend even more time with the Santiagos. A part of Raphael wants to believe that he’s just meant to be tactful, but a bigger one is sure he must have been quite annoyed by the fact he’d had to play babysitter for at least a few hours. Either way, Raphael thinks it’s for the best before he embarasses himself in front of the model.

When Franco’s brought Simon upstairs, telling him some exaggerated story of his last soccer training for sure, he’s had enough food for an army with him that he’s probably eaten most of. Both Raphael and Ricardo don’t eat much throughout the day and since Diego’s holding on to his diet, Franco’s been the only one of them to eat more than usually. Raphael can’t help but smile when he sees how fitting Simon reacts to Franco.

“You guys didn’t tell Mamá you’d be gone for the night, did you?”, Raphael asks when they all seem rather full. “And  _ no _ , that was no invitation.”

“No sleepover with your brothers, then?”, Ricardo teases. “But no, we have to get home later.”

“I can drive you guys,” Simon offers. “Wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Aw, you really are the best fake-boyfriend, aren’t you?”, Diego wants to know. 

Simon frowns at Raphael. “I thought you didn’t tell them?”

Raphael shrugs. “It looks like Diego trains to become a detective when he’s finished school. He’s figured it out on his own.”

Simon whistles through his teeth. “Guitar-playing detective, then? I feel like there must be a movie about that.”

“You know that I play?”

“Sure do! And I heard you’re quite good.”, Simon nods. Raphael can’t recall ever having said that to him, but he’s glad that someone else fawn in his name. “We should jam together someday. It’s too late now, though.”

“Where have you two even been?”, Ricardo wants to know, looking at their black dress shirts. They’ve both taken off their blazers and ties so that they must look like they’ve come from a (with a look at their pants) extravagant funeral.

“Some award show.”, Simon says nonchalantly. “Didn’t win, though.”

“Camille didn’t win either, so all’s well.”, Raphael adds. His brothers seem quite happy about that, too. “Anyway, you guys, we should go soon. It’s way too late for Franco.”

“It’s not! I’m totally awake!”, Franco says, sitting up at the sound of his name. “I don’t want to go home yet, I want to keep talking to Simon--”

“We can continue in the car, bud. And then another time.”, Simon promise with a smile. Then he gets up from his seat on the floor, pulling himself up by holding onto Raphael’s leg. “Hop, go get your coats!”

Raphael smiles when he notices that they’ve used the hall-stand he’s bought, even though Simon keeps forgetting about it. 

“Are you coming home, Ra?”, Franco asks as he closes the buttons of his coat.

“Not yet, I think.”, he responds, putting a hand on his head. “I need to clear up some things.” As soon as he’s said that, he finds Simon’s eyes on him, an unreadable expression on his face.

He ignores it in favour of checking that nobody’s forgotten anything (Ricardo had buried his phone between the couch cushions) and light up the stairs so none of them will fall down in the darkness. Diego struck up a conversation about different guitars and basses with Simon that none of the others can follow, so the car ride is moderately quiet.

Raphael only speaks up to give directions. Safe for that, he stays silent. His mind, however is racing. Wouldn’t it be incredibly selfish if he went back home? After all, he is the one who’s got a job in the headlights, not his family. He’s pretty much signed up for something like this - they haven’t. But they said they wouldn’t mind, didn’t they? Maybe he should trust them to be grown enough to make their own decisions. Ricardo’s right, after all. He’s not their parent.

When Simon turns off the engine, the boys scramble out of the van. Raphael gets out, too, but before he follows to the front door, he walks over to Simon’s door. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

“You sure? I bet you could stay here if you wanted to.”, Simon tells him.

“Probably.”, Raphael nods. “But for tonight I-- I need some… silence.”

Simon blinks at him, surprised by that unusual request. “Shall  _ I _ go then?”

“Don’t be daft,” Raphael shoots. “It’s your flat. Besides… I’d probably have a heart attack if I stayed in the loft on my own.”

He halfway expect Simon to laugh at him, for being unable to be alone without panicking, but as always he’s rather considerate. He gives him a tight smile and nods. “I’ll wait then.”

“Thank you.”

 

-

 

Raphael’s not quite sure if he should be glad his mother has already gone to bed when they came home or not. He’s already heard enough things to keep him awake the whole night - and just thinking about this like that makes him wonder if Magnus’ love for drama has rubbed off on him. Why would he even worry so much about going home? If all of the involved people says they wouldn’t be mad at him, there’s nothing to stop him. But still, they might just say that and secretly they don’t want their security invaded.

He turns around and reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s not early enough to get up yet, but he does it anyway. Maybe he would stop thinking if he turned on the radio at last…

Simon must have laid awake as well - if not, he wouldn’t have been able to hear the soft squeaking of the door. Raphael’s only just closed his when Simon steps out of his room. Without many explanations, he decides, “We should have a drink.”

“I don’t drink,” Raphael blinks at him. 

“It’s a fine scotch - I got it from Luke not that long ago - and from what I know there’s enough people who drink it like water. I doubt it’s even classified as alcohol.”

“Simon, those people are called alcoholics.”

In return, he receives a grin. “Come on, one glass. A glass and a conversation, how does that sound?”

Raphael sighs. Then he nods and points for him to lead the way. Maybe it  _ would _ help if he talked to someone else. His mind had even gone so far and come up with the idea that  _ maybe _ Ragnor and Magnus have just planned to keep his name in the headlines for PR. He doubts that they would actually do that but his paranoia is acting up again. 

Only a few moments later, he finds himself across from Simon with his legs under himself, each of them holding a glass in their hands. They stay silent for a while, just sitting there in the dim light.

After a couple of minutes, Simon starts, “Your brothers are sweet. I totally get why you love them so much. No wonder you’d want to get home.”

“I wanted to keep them out of the light, you know?”

Simon nods, “I know. But now you’re thinking of going home again?”

“Well, it wasn’t my plan to live here anyways-- Don’t get me wrong, it’s much better than I’d thought.”, Raphael says and takes a sip. “I just didn’t want to move out yet.”

“Gotta live up to millennials staying at home till they’re 30, eh?”

Raphael chuckles and kicks his leg. “Don’t talk like that, you sound old.”

“Well, I  _ am _ older than you.”, Simon laughs. “I guess I’ll have to look for a new roommate then.”

“Maybe not.”

Simon stares at him. “Dude, it’s been the plan all along that you’d go home eventually. We could just spin a tale about how you dumped me after I didn’t get that award.”

“Wow, way to paint me like an asshole.”, Raphael decides and reaches for the bottle again. The drink is surprisingly good. “Besides, we weren’t to officially break up-- No big news and all that.”

“Right.”, Simon nods. “So, next week then, I guess?”

Raphael nods. “I’ll talk to some people about it-- you know, my mother, Magnus, my manager. Maybe it’s too soon after our  _ grande entrada _ , who knows?”

“Well,” Simon says and holds out his glass so Raphael would refill it, too, “I think we did quite well. To fake relationships.”

“Yeah.” They bump their glasses, but Raphael can’t help but somehow feel sad, too. He hadn’t imagined to have Simon grow on him so much. He watches as Simon licks his lips after he’d taken a sip and wonders if they could be friends. Maybe they could’ve already been, under circumstances that didn’t make him take so much advantage of Simon.

“You know, at first I’d thought you were a narcissistic asshole,” Simon says, sounding as if he is thinking out loud. “But you’re not-- really.”

“Thanks a lot,” Raphael says with a smile. He wonders if he should reply with his own first impression of the other, but he figures Simon could take it to the heart. He still feels his thoughts go crazy when he’s with him sometimes, but he doesn’t feel like he needs to keep an eye on him at all times. By now, it’s nice to relax with him, too.

 

-

 

Simon’s couch may be rather soft, but falling asleep while sitting on it turns out to be quite uncomfortable. Both of them have fallen over some time in the night, so that they lie down. Their heads are only inches apart and Raphael can feel Simon’s breath on his forehead before he gets up. 

He shoots a look at the table and sees the half full bottle on it. True to their word, they haven’t drunk much. 

Talking to Simon gave him a certain clarity in his head. Staying with him any longer would only seem like he doesn’t trust his family to make their own decisions - Diego and Ricardo have said enough about that already, but hearing a neutral voice support it is what tips him over. Even if Magnus insisted that he carries on longer, he’ll go back home before the week is over.

He looks down at Simon’s figure and reaches over for one of the blankets on the couch’s arm. As he puts it over him, Raphael wonders how he should actually say thank you out loud for once.

 

-

 

“I heard about you and Simon.”

Raphael groans at his coffee, not wanting to look up to meet Isabelle’s eyes. “Funny, what would you have heard?” 

Simon must’ve probably complained about him by now. Raphael’s tried the whole week to find a way to express his gratitude, but whenever he opened his mouth to say the words, he fell silent. He hasn’t found a present either - he wouldn’t have known what to get him for his guitar, and the guy seems to have so much merchandise that he was bound to only buy something he already owns. Simon must’ve told his girlfriend that she’s been right all along and that Raphael is an asshole who doesn’t appreciate things handed to him.

He doesn’t even have to look at the newspaper she’s put down on the table to know what she’s referring to. Admittedly, they’ve needed a few more days more than he’d expected to figure out that Raphael didn’t live with Simon any more, but when he went to work this morning, he’s picked up a copy of his own. There’s been a rather short article saying, “ _ According to an anonymous source, model Raphael Santiago (20) and photographer Simon Lewis (22) have parted ways. If it’s in any way connected to the failed receivement of an award at the annual Herondale Gala that Lewis has been nominated for (‘Best Series Shoot’) is unclear. _ ” They’d even edited a picture of them that must have been shot at the gala in a way that it looked like it’s been ripped apart.

Isabelle puts her chin on a hand. “Well, that you broke up, of course. I knew it wouldn’t last, Simon’s too sweet for a guy like you-- I’d been quite surprised by you moving together so soon, too, but the flat is quite big, so I couldn’t blame him.”

Raphael stares at her. So the two of them aren’t together after all? If they were, she must’ve known that their whole relationship was fake. But why was she seeking Simon’s attention so often? “You must be glad then. Free for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, that’s what you waited for, wasn’t it? Why else would you’ve kept snooping around at our flat, spend whole days there?”

Isabelle starts to laugh, making him frown at her. What’s so funny about this? “Wait-- Raphael,  _ amigo _ , I’m not interested in Simon. I’m dating his  _ best friend _ .”

“ _ You _ are Clary’s girlfriend?” She must be joking - he’s sure that Simon would have mentioned that Clary’s partner is actually someone they both know. Besides, even if she were, why would she spend so much time with him, then?

“As I live and breathe.” She keeps on chuckling. “You know, with how jealous you are I don’t really think you’re over him. So, did Simon break up? I could totally see that.”

Raphael scowls. He knows that Simon would be too good for him, too happy, too wholesome, of course he knows. “He didn’t. We never dated.”, he mutters. The next second he looks at her with big eyes - of all people he could accidentally tell, it’s Isabelle Lightwood.

“What? No, you did. Simon’s told me about it.”, Isabelle says. “The guy’s been so into you, for some godforsaken reason.”

“Then he’s an even better actor than I thought.” At her stare, he adds, “Seriously, it’s been fake. I couldn’t even have him look at me without feeling sick when the whole thing first started. And whenever we’ve done so much as brushed knuckles, they felt like they were on fire. It’s-- Fuck, I’ve been just about to hate him at first.”

“Raphael, do you listen to yourself?” She smirks again. “Okay, so let's say that relationship has been fake, for some reason, but  _ hate _ ? Quite the contrary.”

“As always, Isabelle, you’re talking total nonsense.”

“Jesus, and I thought you were clever enough to be a spy for Camille. I think that theory’s done for.”, she shakes her head to herself. “You are  _ attracted  _ to Simon.”

“What? No, I’m not.” He knows what attraction feels like - and that isn’t it. After all, you’d  _ want _ to touch your partner, and have them touch you - even if not in a sexual way - and then you could remember where their fingers have touched your skin. Involuntarily, his eyes shoots down to his wrist. “Why would you say that?” he continues, feeling a soft tingle at the back of his head.

“You’ve described it, duh.”

Raphael shakes his head softly. He’s not a teenager, he knows what attraction feels like. He knows how you keep sending looks at the other’s mouth, wanting to feel it against yours, and how you feel like you can’t breathe but you don’t want it to end--

“Shit.”

Isabelle smirks. “There we go.”

“I-- How the--” He can’t form any question because he already knows the answer. Why didn’t he realize he actually liked Simon? Because it’s been there  _ from the start _ . He’s been friends with the guy’s he’d had any feelings for before already, knowing that he likes them in some way. Without that guarantee, he’s completely misinterpreted his own reactions. 

“He’s in Clary’s studio, as far as I know.”, Isabelle says. “Probably to talk about you, come to think of it. So  _ I’ll _ text him to come to Java Jones - seeing your name would probably not be good.”

“Are you crazy? I can’t-- not in a  _ coffeeshop _ .”, Raphael says and gets up from his seat. “Give me half an hour and send him home then.”

“Immediately going for the sexy times, are you?”, Isabelle says, but he doesn’t respond. He needs to get to the subway as fast as possible.

 

-

 

Raphael’s not sure if he hates life or if life hates him. How could he have been so blind? All those times he’d thought he’s gotten  _ bad vibes _ from Simon, it’s been the opposite. And according to Isabelle, Simon likes him, too. If he hadn’t been that dumb, they could have been dating for real the whole time - not to fool the press, but to be happy.

Instead, he’s sitting in the cold, freezing his ass off on the metal steps as he waits from Simon to arrive. He doesn’t feel comfortable with trusting Isabelle with this, but if she really cares about Simon, and if he  _ really _ likes him back, she better sent him home.

To pass the time, he’s already texted Magnus. If there’s anybody who could have told him before that he is attracted to Simon, it would have been him! After all, before he’s met Alec, the guy has seemed to feel  _ some _ appeal towards everyone. Instead, he’s kept silent whenever Raphael has mentioned the… the weird feeling he’s had about Simon. 

And now the asshole ignores him. What a good friend.

Whatever Isabelle has told Simon to make him come home, it’s been quite a good excuse. He can’t have sat their for longer than ten minutes when Simon’s van comes around the corner with squealing wheels.

He jumps out of it, panting, and doesn’t even lock the door. Raphael gets up from his seat, ignoring the lack of feeling in the lower part of his body, and stumbles up to him.

“Raph, are you alright? Izzy said something’s wrong, but she didn’t know what--”

Really? She didn’t even make up anything? If Simon freaks out at such a vague hint already, Raphael can’t believe he hadn’t realized that Simon might feel  _ very _ positively about him.

“I’m fine,” Raphael says when they’re standing right in front of each other. “Just an idiot.”

Simon raises an eyebrow. “Are you? What happened? Did the paparazzo--”

Raphael doesn’t even let him talk any more. If he were to, he might even reply and then they’d have a conversation and Raphael would lose his courage. Because even though Simon likes him, too, apparently, it’s not easy just to go and kiss someone. 

It’s different than their last kiss, because Simon doesn’t know what happens. He’s actually freezing when Raphael leans up to connect their lips and after what feels like ages, he puts his hands up against Raphael’s chest. He fears he’s going to push him away, but then suddenly he grabs a fist of his shirt, pulling him up even more and moving into the kiss. 

Simon’s still breathing heavily, maybe from rushing here or maybe even from excitement like Raphael is. He feels his warm breath on the corner of his mouth until Simon pulls away, pressing their foreheads together.

“Well, that wasn’t quite idiotic.”, Simon grins at him.

Raphael thought he must already be hot enough from the kiss, but he feels himself blush even more. “You probably ruined my shirt. But I don’t care.”

“Now that’s a declaration of love. And so early already.”

Instead of replying, Raphael kisses him again. It’s not as firm as before, leaving them actually space to move as they kiss, to open their mouths and explore each other. 

“No big break-up number then?”, Simon asks when they part again. He laughs at the exasperated look he gains. “That’s fine by me.”

“Mh, I’m glad to hear that.”, Raphael smiles. “I think we should go inside.”

“Scared of the paparazzi?”

“No, it’s freaking cold.”, he explains and pulls Simon towards the fire escape. The laughter he gets in return makes his stomach tingle, but at least now he knows that it’s good.

**Author's Note:**

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